


Honest Skin

by bottomchanyeol, sohbet



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: AMAB nonbinary character, Baby Boy Chanyeol, M/M, Sexual Harassment, age gap, gender non-conforming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 11:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17324465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomchanyeol/pseuds/bottomchanyeol, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohbet/pseuds/sohbet
Summary: Chanyeol is an A+ student who appears to have it all in life—brains, looks, money, friends, and family. But that's not all he is. A rough cut biker makes him realize he's not wrong to want more—to be seen for who he is on the inside, not just the front that he puts up.- This fanwork was written for round 2 of the bottom!Chanyeol fest [2018/19].





	Honest Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Baby boy Chanyeol. That's it. That's the fic. (I hope you love it as much as I love him TT TT) 
> 
> Sorry for typos and general fail and humongous thanks to the most understanding mods on the planet. And my betas and yeolmisc for making the best graphics ;; Now I'm soft goodbye TT TT

**** The rings on Chanyeol’s fingers were a comforting weight. They flashed in the bathroom mirror as his hand rose to his face. Shaking a tube of concealer, he daubed some on his skin, vanishing the spots he'd irritated in the fugue of final exams.

 

University was a special kind of hell, and though he pulled A's each semester, that didn't mean he hadn’t sacrificed. Some sleep, some sanity, some social life. Some grooming. There were always casualties in the competitive sport of college studies. Those were only the first deaths.

 

It was late, and on another day, he’d be eyeballs deep in homework. But tonight, with exams behind him, and only one semester left of his degree, Chanyeol was going out.

 

The slight shadow at his chin was missing after a careful shave. His hair smelled like a bouquet of roses after a long, much-needed soak. His black tunic and skinny red jeans didn’t look half bad. The chilly weather left him fewer options. It was just a few days until winter, but the neckline fell open across his collarbones. Sliver-thin chains and thick figaro links rested heavy against his smooth chest.

 

Pushing his long dark hair this way and that, he messed with the part and volume until it had just the right amount of mess-me-up and messy morning-after.

 

“Ready, Yeol?” Kyungsoo knocked on his bedroom door.

 

“Almost. Gimme five,” he called back.

 

“Okay, I'll call the car.”

 

Turning back to the mirror, Chanyeol applied the final touch. With a steady hand, he held his breath and drew a long black streak atop each lash line, and at the corners winged it up. The liner drew attention to his eyes’ natural curious tilt. Once his eyes were lined, the contrast of his features became stark. The few determined freckles that clung to his skin even in winter stood out on his dewy skin. He didn’t hesitate to add a kiss of shimmer to his cheeks. A swipe of rosy gloss further softened his features.

 

Chanyeol’s reflection stared back at him, soft, subversive and complete. He was more himself now than ever, even if he was the only one who knew it.

 

Tidying up his makeup, Chanyeol fought the urge to touch up anymore. While the makeup made him pretty, it never felt like enough. He didn’t want to go full drag, but he rued his sharp jaw and big nose at times like these. It was hard to make himself look anything like the girls in youtube videos. The look he wanted was simple, natural, and if he got heavy-handed with the liquid liner, it was all downhill from there. He understood why his sister had once dumped a guy on the spot when he’d said girls who wore makeup were dishonest, and that he preferred a natural look. Even Chanyeol was offended. The natural look took effort—and just as much or more makeup.

 

Yoora had been the one to teach him how to do his  makeup, when he'd tentatively asked her at the age of eleven. She'd been delighted to paint his nails and do his hair and tell him he looked pretty with eyeliner on, all of which had made him inordinately happy. For a few years in high school he went goth, because it worked with the aesthetic. He played guitar in a metal band, too; so it only made sense. No one questioned his predilection for leaning femme when he was over 6 feet tall and wearing black from head to toe.

 

Unfortunately, his preferences had graduated and gone to uni with him. It wasn’t a phase after all.

 

Sometimes Chanyeol wore shapeless designer hoodies and track pants at uni, and polished up if he was around his parents or had an important meeting or presentation. But it was with his friends or sister that he could slide into his most honest skin, where he wasn't straight-A student council president Park Chanyeol, but just himself.

 

“Looking good,” Kyungsoo arched a brow when Chanyeol emerged from the bedroom. His best friend and roommate always looked on point. He made plain black jeans and turtleneck sweaters look so fierce. With his hair done up he looked sharp and powerful, and if he wasn't Chanyeol's childhood best friend, he could have easily fallen for a guy like Do Kyungsoo. Not that he was available—Kyungsoo was in a long term relationship—but Chanyeol admired his raw power, his stability, his no-fucks-given attitude. Kyungsoo never put on an act, never let anyone dictate how to live his life. He’d struck a fine balance between his parents’ expectations and his own life choices. Jongin was going to be in his life, whether they liked it or not. Kyungsoo had been dating the nursing major since they met at uni in first year—while sailing through the business major his parents required of him to ace.

 

Chanyeol looked up to him in every way but one. When Kyungsoo stood, he barely came to Chanyeol’s shoulder. But that never stopped Chanyeol from hiding behind him.

 

“The car will be here in five. If we’re getting properly drunk, I’m not risking the Maserati.” More like he wasn’t going to risk their lives. That was another thing Chanyeol appreciated. A true alpha male always looked out for others. He'd really cashed in in the best friend department, and felt himself letting go, easing up, knowing he was in good hands.

 

“Did Nini finish his last exam?” Chanyeol asked as he pulled on his peacoat and stepped into his shoes. His heart skipped; he looked and felt good.

 

“Yeah, we'll pick him up along the way.”

 

The drive out to the city was just long enough for Chanyeol to start feeling restless. Kyungsoo and Jongin chatted in the backseat, and for leg room reasons Chanyeol sat up front. He stared out the window as the city passed by. They partied away from school so they wouldn't run into familiar faces. People weren’t openly against gay, trans, or gender non-conforming folks, but Chanyeol was expected to maintain a certain reputation, both as a top student at a prestigious university, and as a filial son. Slothing around in streetwear was about as far as he could push the boundaries, or wished to for now. Considering that even he wasn’t exactly sure what or who he was, he didn’t feel the need to rock the stable boat that buoyed him.

 

A little makeup never hurt anyone, and sometimes, on those days where he put on a suit for a presentation in class, he did subtly touch up his face.

 

But it wasn’t just about makeup, and makeup wasn’t just about looking good.

 

Chanyeol wanted to look good  _ for _ someone, to be seen the way he felt inside. While everything else chugged ahead in his life, his romantic life was nonexistent. Unlike his studies, he couldn’t just read up, take a test, and collect a boyfriend like a good grade or a spot on the Dean’s List. What came naturally and easily to Kyungsoo and Jongin felt more complicated to Chanyeol. How he felt and how he looked were more often than not at odds. What he was attracted to was even more complex. He’d tried his share of makeout sessions or quick hookups, but nothing made him feel whole. He quickly lost interest, and earned himself a reputation as a heartbreaker, on top of everything else.

 

Just because the shoe fit, though, didn’t mean it was his.

  
  


***

  
  


The gay club in the city had a discreet facade, with no sign or indication of where they were. Only the smokers outside gave away its location, but Chanyeol’s friends had been going ever since they were legal. Piling out of the car they made their way inside, checked their coats, and settled in at a table where a bottle of whiskey would grease the wheels of their night. 

 

Third-wheeling put Chanyeol in some kind of mood, but it would only be a little while before their other single friends arrived. 

 

“You’re quiet, Yeollie,” Jongin slid into the booth beside him and slipped a hand over his. His eyes were soft and searching, and Chanyeol felt a smile curve his lips for the first time that night. Jongin may have been Kyungsoo’s boyfriend, but he never let Chanyeol feel left out.

 

“Waiting for finals stress to wear off, I guess,” Chanyeol deflected. Jongin just looked at him with warm brown knowing eyes.

 

“I’d say we should find you a sweet hookup.” He looked down at Chanyeol's hand as he rubbed his knuckles. “But that’s not really what you want, is it?”

 

Chanyeol’s smile took on the wilt of a grimace, something wry and well past his tender twenty-two years. “It could take the edge off,” he shrugged. But that Chanyeol was the false one, the one they called a heartbreaker in some circles. It felt dishonest here, in his most honest skin.

 

He sighed and leaned back into the corner of the booth. “Don’t let me drag your night down, Nini. You guys should have fun. I’ll come around soon.”

 

Jongin squeezed his hand just as Kyungsoo returned, tailed by a waiter bearing their mixers and booze.

 

Chanyeol's alcohol tolerance was as high as his head was over most folks at the club. He downed a few shots with them, and was feeling cozy and relaxed when his peace was disturbed.

 

“Come dance with us Yeol,” Jongdae entreated. He’d shown up, had a drink, then sped off to the dance floor. “You’re not gonna stay in this corner all night, are you?”

 

“What if I am?” Chanyeol replied, scrunching his nose with a frown.

 

“It’s your last semester and you’re just going to go home and be with your family for the holidays… come on, let loose, have fun. Live while you still can.”

 

Chanyeol whined some protest about how he was letting loose just fine in the booth, but he let Jongdae drag him out. Soon he was swaying to the beat, getting caught up in the sway of bodies. At this stage of buzzed, he didn’t care when his neckline slipped from his shoulder, or his hair fell in his eyes. Familiar faces swam past but he was in his own world, moving his hips to the music.

 

The hands on his waist were so light that at first he didn’t notice, idly assuming someone was pushing past. But they remained, and someone brushed up against his ass. Whoever it was was grinding up on him, and while some other day in some other mood Chanyeol might have been open to that, tonight he just wasn’t.

 

He frowned, forcing himself to relax as he glanced over his shoulder. The guy was short compared to him, and it wasn’t someone he knew. He had fierce eyeliner and a face like a cat, but his sloppy moves said he was drunk off his ass. Chanyeol drew in his shoulders and tried to out of his grasp, but the guy grunted and held on, pressing into his back.

 

“Wh’r you going, baby boy?” the guy slurred in his ear. “Don’t be like that,” he pouted. “I love tall boys. I’ll treat you right—“

 

A shiver chilled Chanyeol at the words. The guy had read him like an open book. Part of him was curious, wanted to see what he meant, but the better part of him was began to pull away.

 

“Um. Sorry. I’m—not interested.” Chanyeol cringed at the uncertainty in his voice. He carefully pulled out of the man’s reach.

 

“Min!” A hand grabbed the guy’s arm and wrenched him back. Chanyeol followed the hand to a leather-clad arm, a neck sporting ink, and a sharp, thin-lipped glare under honey-blonde hair. “What the fuck, Min. Drink some water, you’re wasted.”

 

Grabby-hand guy—Min—outright whined. “Fuck. Just cause you’re chicken doesn’t mean I gotta be too.” He stumbled in place. “We were just getting acquainted weren’t we, baby boy?” Min’s hand reached out, sliding a hand down Chanyeol’s back, and squeezing a handful of his ass. Chanyeol’s neck burned as a flush spread to his face. He looked away. 

 

He hated this. 

 

No, he wanted to hate it.

 

He also wanted to cry.

 

He swallowed noisily and took a step back. It was best not to be rude or confrontational. He knew the increased risk of femme presenting. He glanced at neck-tattoo guy and gave a quick shake of his head before he bolted, heart banging, throat tight.

 

Fleeing to the restroom, Chanyeol locked himself in a stall. Leaning against a wall he gulped air and swallowed, trying to hold in the tears that threatened to spill. Half of him felt disgusted, the other half disgusting. Wasn’t this what he wanted?  _ Baby boy. _ Maybe this was what he had asked for. Gropes and propositions from horny drunk men who saw past his height and build to the person he truly was—to his deepest needs and wants.

 

He wadded up some tissues and pressed his eyes dry, blowing his nose as a sob caught in his throat. He felt dirty, pathetic, and it wasn’t just the restroom’s fault.

 

“Yeollie?” A soft voice called over the flush of a toilet. “Are you in here?”

 

Chanyeol wiped his face and tossed the tissues, slowly emerging from the stall. Jongin’s face went from worried to horrified concern.

 

“Yeol!” His arms were around him in an instant. “What happened?”

 

Chanyeol could only shake his head and hide his face in Jongin’s neck, trembling like a leaf in a rainstorm.

 

“Nini, did you fi—oh fuck,  _ Yeol _ .” Kyungsoo joined Jongin on Chanyeol’s other side, rubbing his back. “Are you okay? We saw you bolt.”

 

Chanyeol nodded and was ushered out into a dim hallway. They squished onto a bench, flanking him on either side, and someone pressed a cup of water into his hands.

 

“What happened, Yeol?” Kyungsoo’s voice was thick with worry. “Did someone hurt you?”

 

Chanyeol sipped his water and shook his head. No one had hurt him. He was the one who’d attracted the attention. He was the one who let them touch and talk to him and make him feel small. He was the one who couldn’t decide how he felt about it, whether he hated it, wanted it, or why it felt wrong.

 

How would his friends understand?

 

“I-I want to go home,” he mumbled.

 

“Okay let’s go,” Kyungsoo was standing before Chanyeol could stop him.

 

“No I don’t want to ruin your night, I can take a car home. You should stay.”

 

“I don’t want you to be by yourself.” Kyungsoo’s brows furrowed and he reached up to stroke his hair. Chanyeol had to hold himself back from sinking into his shoulder and letting him soothe him. Take care of him. Make him feel safe. Kyungsoo shouldn’t have to do that—besides he had a boyfriend to be with and a night to enjoy.

 

“I’ll be fine. I just got emotional over nothing.” Chanyeol gathered himself, made his voice strong. He would feel worse if he put an end to their night just because he was done. “Must be the stress from finals finally hitting me, or something,” he lied.

 

Jongin looked at him with doubt. Kyungsoo sighed. “Are you sure? Really sure?”

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol said steadily.

 

“I’m putting you in a car then.” Kyungsoo said gruffly.

  
  


The night was frosty, not the kind of weather one dallied about in. Chanyeol regretted the large cutout on the back of his shirt, because even under the peacoat he felt the cold. But he straightened his spine and followed Kyungsoo out. The thought of home and bed and quiet was both daunting and a relief. 

 

No sooner had they set foot on the sidewalk than a cab careened to the curb before Kyungsoo’s outstretched hand. He strode ahead to claim it, not noticing the two people standing nearby. A hard voice interrupted them, getting up in their face.

 

“Buddy, get your own cab.” It was the man with the tattoo and his handsy drunk friend.

 

Chanyeol backed up a few steps, eyeing the two men nervously.

 

“I am,” Kyungsoo replied, unbothered. “It’s right here.” He pulled the door open and turned to Chanyeol.

 

The door slammed shut beneath the man’s hand. Fingers flat on the glass, he stared Kyungsoo down. “Who do you think you are?” The man said, and it wasn’t a question. His eyes flashed, unimpressed. “Spoiled brats.”

 

“You really wanna go there?” Kyungsoo’s voice went quiet and calm. He began pushing his sleeves up. 

 

_ Fuck fuck fuck _ . Chanyeol shied behind him.

 

A drunken Min slumped against the cab door.

 

“C’mon B, you can flex some other time. Babycakes isn't interested, you saw that inside.” 

 

Chanyeol eyes flared, as Kyungsoo’s hackles rose. Suddenly, he feared for the two men’s lives.

 

“Shut up Min, you’re drunk. And you’re a shit wingman.” The man— _ B _ —cut his friend off.

 

“Can y’all back up please?” The passenger window cracked open and the cab driver glared out at them. “Take your pissing contest somewhere else. Ya’ll look like trouble, I’m leaving.” He began rolling the window back up. “Best back up so your toes don’t get run over.”

 

B pulled Min bodily off of the car. He slumped and stumbled against him, looking perplexed.

 

The cab sped away.

 

“Are these the men that messed with you?” Kyungsoo asked calmly, but all of them could hear. Chanyeol sucked a quick breath.

 

“Soo—it’s okay. Really.” Chanyeol tried to defuse him. But Soo knew him too well.

 

Kyungsoo wheeled on the men. Grabbing B by the collar of his thick leather jacket, he yanked him in close and got up in his face. They were more or less of a height, and his threat was effective.

 

“I don’t know what hole you crawled out of,” he growled lowly, “but if you fuck with my friends, you fuck with me.”

 

B’s eyes narrowed and Min goggled wide-eyed. Chanyeol gulped. B wrapped a hand around Kyungsoo’s and gripped, steadily but successfully pushing his arms down. Unphased, he spoke slowly. “Maybe you should keep a closer eye on your friends then.”

 

A vein throbbed in Kyungsoo’s temple and he grabbed on again and shook the man, hard. “Say that again, bastard!” 

 

Chanyeol’s heart began pounding. He had to speak up before Kyungsoo did something he’d regret. And before someone who hadn’t done anything wrong took a fist to the face. Kyungsoo wasn’t violent but when it came to his friends, his temper was something else.

 

Chanyeol reached out, touching Kyungsoo’s arm gingerly. “Kyungsoo, it wasn’t him.” His voice was a whisper. It dropped further as he added under his breath, “it was the other guy, but he’s too drunk to know what he’s doing. Leave it alone, please.”

 

Kyungsoo blinked widely. He stepped back cleanly, brushing his hands off and dropping them to his sides.

 

“I stand corrected. You’re still a cab-stealing ass, but if you didn’t touch my friend I won’t rearrange your face.” He shifted his glare to Min, but the man was clearly too drunk to feel remotely threatened.

 

B huffed a breath and straightened his jacket, rolling a crick out of his neck. “Thanks,” he snapped, annoyed and sarcastic. Fortunately, he didn’t say anything else. 

 

Kyungsoo gave him one more disgusted look before he stepped away to hail a new cab. 

 

Chanyeol let out a heavy sigh of relief. A few paces away, Min swayed and sat down on the pavement, still eyeing him in a way that made Chanyeol’s skin crawl. He pushed his hands further into his pockets and angled his body away from the men. He stepped away to help Kyungsoo wave down a cab, but a voice stopped him.

 

“I apologize for earlier.”

 

Chanyeol turned. B’s menacing glare was stripped of sardonic steel, replaced with surprising sincerity. Chanyeol froze in place, eyes widening with surprise, uncertain what to say next. B was a head shorter than him, but there was nothing small about his presence. His eyes were black as night and his lips were thin and smooth. He pushed ringed fingers through his dark honey blonde hair and made a frustrated sound. “Thanks for calling off your friend… Touché, I guess.”

 

Chanyeol nodded once, biting the inside of his lip. “I guess,” he echoed, uncertain. The man’s eyes found his, looking at him so deeply that Chanyeol felt transparent as glass. He hoped B couldn’t see the way that he’d been checking him out—following the svelte tendons of his neck where they funneled toward his throat, lingering on the open swath of skin and ink that his teeshirt revealed. Wasn’t he cold? Chanyeol dropped his eyes, but that was worse—the man had gorgeous hands, the kind Chanyeol only dreamed of, and tight shapely legs encased in leather. And his shoes— _ nice _ black snakeskin and leather boots. Chanyeol abided by the rule that you could tell the make of a man by the make of his shoes.

 

He must have looked like a garden variety desperate fool, eyeing the friend of a man who had molested him just moments before. He swallowed, throat bobbing in a cold that he couldn’t quite feel anymore.

 

Was he supposed to say something? The man hadn’t moved, hadn’t pressed him to speak, but the pause between them felt baited, like something needed to be said.

 

Something vibrated in his pocket, and Chanyeol released an audible sigh of relief for the distraction. Pulling out his phone just as Kyungsoo reappeared, they both saw the same message.

 

From Nini:

Where r u guys? Evrything ok?

 

It was just what Chanyeol needed to snap out of his daze.

 

“You should go back,” he urged Kyungsoo, “I can catch a cab by myself.”

 

“Are you sure?” Kyungsoo didn't sound convinced. But if Chanyeol pressed, his friend would relent. He was protective, not overbearing. And Chanyeol didn’t look or sound like he was having a meltdown anymore, nor was he drunk.

 

Chanyeol nodded quickly. “I can just rideshare if there aren’t any cabs.”

 

“You know how shitty rideshares can be about driving all the way out to Falls,” Kyungsoo shook his head. “Use the car service at least. They won’t turn you down. Text me when you’re home.”

 

With Kyungsoo satisfied that he had a safe way to get home, he headed back inside. Chanyeol searched up the number of a car service on his phone.

 

Someone cleared their throat. Chanyeol looked up to find the man with the neck tattoo still standing on the sidewalk. Was he waiting for something or—

 

“You’re from Falls?” The man asked, interest kindling in his eyes. “I’m heading out that way. I’d offer you a ride, but it seems a bit forward after how things went tonight.”

 

“In...a cab?” Chanyeol raised his brows.

 

The man laughed, a rich bronze tenor lighting up his whole face. He was handsome as hell. Chanyeol shooed away the thought.

 

“No, no—Min’s going in a cab because he’s drunk off his ass. I’m taking my baby.” He half-turned, jerking a thumb at a motorcycle parked nearby. The bike gleamed in the night, a heeled beast waiting for its leather-clad master. Its sleek finish caught the streetlights and headlights as they rolled past.

 

“O-oh,” Chanyeol produced, struggling to reel in his thoughts. Did everything about this man have to be so attractive? He’d even stood up to Kyungsoo without breaking a sweat.

 

“Uh. Thank you. But. Yeah.” Chanyeol laughed nervously. “I’m good. I’ll just get a car.”

 

The man chuckled, low and smooth. “I figured. Don’t suppose I could get your number instead? Let me make it up to you sometime?”

 

Chanyeol’s eyes snapped up to meet his and he blinked twice. Had he been so obvious in his gawking? The man’s eyes were twinkling—was he playing a joke on him?

 

Hot alpha males rarely took an interest in him, especially not if they were pretty and young. 

 

Chanyeol opened and closed his mouth a few times before a pitchy “sure” escaped, like a squeak of air let out of a balloon. What was the worst that could happen? That he wouldn’t ever call or text? Some dudes just got off on how many numbers they could collect. Bragging rights, or something like that. Chanyeol wouldn’t know—his brain didn’t work like that. 

 

The man handed over his phone and Chanyeol entered his digits. When it came to his name, he hesitated, then punched in ‘Loey’. A nickname was probably safest with a stranger he met at a club. 

 

“What’s your name, by the way?” He asked, jabbing the phone back. B slipped the phone into a zippered pocket.

 

“Baekhyun,” he said, without hesitation. He lifted his eyes and pushed his hair back. “It’s nice to meet you, Loey—am I pronouncing that right?” He held out a hand, and Chanyeol took it with a nod. Baekhyun’s grip was warm and strong, his fingers tapered and long. Chanyeol wondered if it was his imagination when they lingered and squeezed, transmitting warmth.

 

“Nice meeting you too,” he fumbled, a beat late. Why couldn’t he speak, for fuck sake? He wanted to slap himself for looking so dense.

 

“Get home safely, Loey,” Baekhyun said, looking him in the eyes. He tipped his chin toward Min. “I’ve got to go put this trainwreck into a cab.” Baekhyun slid his fingers out of Chanyeol’s grasp, taking with him his twinkling eyes and warmth.

  
  


*******

  
  


“You  _ what _ ?” Kyungsoo boggled, eyes going wide. He’d risen early, like the hellspawn he was, to cook them all breakfast—or brunch, given the hour. Jongin was just shuffling into the kitchen in his pajamas when Kyungsoo’s voice rose. He paused in place, blinking small sleepy eyes. Looking confused, he hooked his chin over Kyungsoo’s shoulder, hair a fluffed mess as he watched him cook.

 

Chanyeol dropped his gaze and pierced an over-easy egg with his fork. He began paring the white away from the yolk, eating it first to save the best part for last.

 

“He was nice, okay. His friend was a doucehbag but he was nice.”

 

“Whadappen?” Jongin mumbled, his eyes barely open as he plonked down in a chair.

 

“Chanyeol gave asshat’s friend his number, that’s what.”

 

“Ooo.” Jongin hummed, nodding sagely. “Asshat’s friend was hot.”

 

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and speared a sausage link, forking it off onto a plate. Jongin finally appeared to wake when a plate slid under his nose. Kyungsoo dropped into a chair across from them, tucking into his food.

 

“Do you think he’ll call?” Jongin asked, innocently curious.

 

Chanyeol licked yolk off his fork with a shrug. “I don’t know. He’s like...too hot to take anyone seriously, you know? He looks like the kind of guy that fucks a different girl or guy every day of the week.”

 

“He could take you seriously though,” Jongin offered. “I mean, you’re kinda the same.”

 

Chanyeol snorted, derision seeping into his voice. “Maybe if I was an abusive dickhead or a cocky jock or some alpha wet dream, yeah.” He knew the reaction he got when he presented cis masculine, wore the right clothes, did his hair the right way. Threw the right smirk or smile, let his eyes roam and dance. But that Chanyeol had never been in a relationship, because he didn’t exist in his heart, just his head. That Chanyeol came out for school and family, to meet expectations and to get ahead in life. 

 

Chanyeol didn’t hate that side of himself. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be that person forever, especially not with a significant other.

 

Chanyeol speared a sausage with a little extra force.

 

“You need someone caring who sees you for what’s inside. Asshat friends need not apply.”

 

“His name is Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said. He wasn’t annoyed by Kyungsoo’s firm protective stance. He was blessed to have a best friend who looked out for him like that. But he was intrigued. Sure, Baekhyun gave off bona fide bad boy vibes, and his friend was an actual sexual harasser, but tattoos and motorbikes and leather aside, he’d been nothing but upstanding, if a bit intimidating. But that was neither here nor there; it didn’t take much to intimidate him; he was scared of confetti.

 

“He’s nice. He seemed to feel bad about his friend’s behavior, said he wanted to make it up to me.”

 

“That’s one hell of a pickup strategy,” Kyungsoo quipped.

 

Chanyeol’s phone vibrated on the table. He turned it over and swiped to check the notification.

 

**From: Unknown**

Hi Loey, I hope you got home safely. How do you feel about grabbing coffee sometime? I know it’s the holidays so don’t worry if you can’t. -B

 

“Oooh,” a voice cooed over Chanyeol’s left shoulder. He swatted Jongin away, only to have Kyungsoo leaning over his right.

 

“Huh, he gave you a way out before he even got started.” Kyungsoo snorted, reclaiming his seat. “It’s like he said he wants to see you for brownie points, but actually doesn’t.”

 

Jongin scooted his chair closer to Kyungsoo, resting his cheek on his shoulder. He look up at him—the only angle from which that was even possible—with soft eyes. “Don’t be so cynical babe. He could just be considerate.”

 

Kyungsoo let out a sigh that tapered into a grumble, but he held his peace. He reached over to Jongin’s plate and offered him a sliver of fried egg to eat. Jongin let himself be fed and cuddled into his side, smiling, content. 

 

Chanyeol went back to his phone and flicked the message up and down with his finger, watching it bounce on the screen. Winter break had just begun, and he was going to his parents’ for Christmas. After that he had a whole month to himself, during which he was taking one winterim class to complete his minor. Kyungsoo was going away on vacation with his family. That meant Jongin would be scarce as well.

 

Maybe, Chanyeol thought, it wouldn’t be so bad to have someone to casually see, even if just once or twice. Maybe he could put himself out there again. For years he’d avoided romantic liaisons during the school year, because he wanted to keep his focus on his grades. He didn’t fare well with emotional distraction.

 

To be fair, it had been a while since anyone had gotten to him on that level. Even if he found someone aesthetically attractive, the sexual and romantic attraction didn’t always match up. His flings and hookups hadn’t matured into more, and he hadn’t held a real relationship since high school, if it could even be called that.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

I did, thanks^^ Coffee would be nice but I’m going to be away for a week..

 

He sent it off without expectations. In his experience, guys were only interested if it was convenient. This Baekhyun likely wasn’t any different. Chanyeol poured syrup on his pancakes and was about to set in when his phone buzzed again. Licking the sugary sweetness from his fingers, he wiped his hands clean to check.

 

**From: Unknown**

No problem. How about when you’re back?

 

_ Huh _ , Chanyeol thought. So he wasn’t entirely full of shit.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Sure^^ When’s good for you?

 

**From: Unknown**

I’m pretty flexible. Starting a new job in Feb, so my schedule’s wide open. Name a date and a time and I’ll find a place out by Falls. My treat, of course.

 

“He’s grinning at his phone.” Jongin whispered.

 

“Shut. We’re setting up a date.” Chanyeol checked his calendar, then sent a reply.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Cool. How about Friday afternoon next week?

 

**From: Unknown**

Done. I’ll hit you up with some places in a couple of days!

 

“We’re meeting next Friday,” Chanyeol looked up with a grin. Kyungsoo reached over and snatched his phone from his hands. 

 

“Hey!” Chanyeol protested, floundering for the device.

 

“Let’s see.” Kyungsoo scrolled through the brief conversation, humming to himself. “What kind of biker bro uses perfect punctuation, capitalization,  _ and _ exclamation points?”

 

“ _ I _ use perfect punctuation, capitalization, and exclamation points,” Chanyeol defended.

 

“Yeah but you’re a teacher’s pet and an overachiever and a baby.”

 

He had a point.

  
  


*******

  
  


“Chanyeol dear, it’s so good to see you! How is school? You’ve grown thin since we last saw you—are you eating?”

 

Chanyeol groaned internally but pasted on a smile. The ground floor of his parents house buzzed with holiday cheer, awhirl with guests and music. “I’m fine, auntie, school is great. I have an interview for the masters program in a month.”

 

“Oh that’s wonderful! You’ve always been so smart and determined. But six years of school in a row is a lot! Did you think of taking a break after graduation so you can work, and maybe find a nice girl to settle down with? Don’t hide yourself away in school for your whole youth!”

 

Chanyeol’s smile grew plastic, but it didn’t disintegrate. He laughed, the sound ringing empty in his ears. His parents’ holiday fete wasn’t the place to assert his gender or preferences. The amount of money and education in the room far outstripped the amount of understanding. Though his family meant well and, as the youngest on both sides, he was everyone’s darling, there was a generational gap and a cultural divide that made it impossible to mention some things.

 

“Yeollie!”

 

A bright voice rang out like a heraldic angel. Yoora came around his side, hooking his arm in hers. She smoothly tipped a cocktail shaker over his glass, topping him up. Glancing up at him she shot him a hidden wink.

 

“Auntie! I almost didn’t recognize you, you’re looking younger than ever! Did you get the facelift you were talking about last time?”

 

Chanyeol could’ve kissed the ground before his sister’s feet. He hadn’t even noticed if his aunt had gotten botox, and wondered if Yoora had made that up on the spot. She had always been the glib confident one, stellar with words and cool under pressure. Perhaps that was why she made a great news anchor. He liked to think he was channeling her spirit when he was giving presentations or leading projects in class.

 

He tuned the conversation out like a distant radio station, hanging on her arm and steadily sipping on his cocktail until she whisked him away.

 

“Ugh,” Yoora said, as they slipped through the kitchen into the wine cellar. The party was catered, and if not for the impressive liquor stash their father had amassed, they would’ve had a catered bar, too. Yoora had volunteered to help with drinks, though, and as the apple of their father’s eye, he couldn’t deny her. It helped her case that she had a boyfriend, and thus wasn’t obligated to find one by socializing with their family and friends. Not that she could breathe a word of her boyfriend’s existence, since anything short of engagement was gossip fodder for the rumor mill.

 

“Thanks for the rescue,” Chanyeol grinned, a little easier in his words now that he was a few cocktails deep. “She’s nice but...you know.”

 

“I saw it in your face, munchkin.” Yoora reached up and ruffled his hair. Chanyeol scrunched his nose at the childish nickname. Back when he had been a round dumpling of a child, before puberty had stretched him out, she’d taken to calling him ‘munchkin’ after the sweet round desserts. It was an odd nickname for the slim 6 foot man he had become. But he secretly loved it, and hoped she never stopped.

 

“She’ll never get it,” Yoora shrugged, sitting on a stool. “C’mere,” she said, pulling up another beside her. Chanyeol took a seat, and she poured another measure from the shaker into his cup. “We’re both leaving tomorrow, but we didn’t even get time to hang out,” she mourned.

 

Chanyeol swirled his drink and rested his head on her shoulder. “I know. We’ve been so busy since we got here. It always happens like this.” Yoora hummed in agreement and draped an arm around him, sipping from her glass.

 

“You should come visit me during winterim.” He looked up. “Kyungsoo is going to be away all month. I have the house to myself.”

 

“Oh yeah. I’ll see if I can get off work! Maybe a long weekend.” She gave him a squeeze. “I want to hear all about your life. And not the boring shit auntie asked about.”

 

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he warned, “there isn’t much more than that. Though I do have a...sort of date? This Friday.”

 

“Oooh tell me more! Are they cute? Where’d you meet? What’s their name?” She jostled him, grinning.

 

Chanyeol laughed aloud at her enthusiasm. “It could be nothing. There’s no point in talking about it yet.”

 

“Listen,” Yoora chided, “don’t put that kind of negativity into the universe. Maybe they’re the one you’ve been waiting for all this time.” She lifted her glass, declaring loudly, “Hear that, universe? Make it happen!” 

  
  


*******

  
  


Friday took its own sweet time coming. By Thursday, Baekhyun had suggested two cafes. Chanyeol chose the option one town over from where he studied and lived. It was the holidays and no one was around, but everyone knew everyone around a college town.

 

They agreed to meet there, which meant Chanyeol didn’t have to give out his address. He sometimes longed for the days in old movies and shows, where boys picked up their dates at their house. Then again, this was just a rented house that he shared with a roommate, not his parents’ house where his dad could size Baekhyun up, deciding whether he was allowed to take his son out or not. The thought of observing such traditions made Chanyeol a bit giddy. Maybe his dad wouldn’t get it, but Yoora certainly would. He could imagine her eyeing Baekhyun critically, making him squirm.

 

But he wouldn’t squirm, would he?

 

Chanyeol grinned and wrapped himself up tighter in his fluffy robe. He stood before his closet, puzzling over what to wear. They’d met at the club, so Baekhyun had seen him dressed “down”—more like himself. That meant he didn’t have to front. But they were going to a cafe, it was still close to home, and it was cold out.

 

In the end, he settled on a pair of skintight jeans that hugged his ass, and a big chunky sweater with a turtleneck. It made his legs look long and shapely in ways that he liked. He tousled his freshly washed hair and applied gloss to his lips. Feeling more like himself already, he went in with a light eyeshadow and mascara to make his eyes pop. They were his best feature and he was going to put them to work. Once his makeup was done, he slid on a few of his favorite rings, chunky silver ones that made his hands look slimmer and more elegant than they actually were.

 

He was ready, but there was one thing left to do. Instead of taking his own car, he called one to pick him up. Nothing soothed him more than sinking into a headspace where he let everything go, let himself be taken care of, rather than doing it himself.

 

The car deposited him in front of the main street cafe just a few minutes late—he hadn’t intended it, but it was easier to make an entrance that way. His pulse jumped as he spotted a familiar figure outside, leaning against the seat of his parked bike. He looked up just as Chanyeol stepped out of the car, and his eyes trailed his body from head to toe and back up.

 

“Hi,” Chanyeol greeted, pinking at the man’s unabashed attention.

 

“Hey,” Baekhyun replied, his voice a bit gravelly and rough. He cleared his throat and it came out a bit smoother. “You look great, Loey.”

 

Chanyeol tried not to preen visibly but it was tough not to glow. Baekhyun had clearly put in some effort himself, he was clean shaven and his dark blonde hair was still messy but had been done up. He wore the same leather jacket, but underneath it, he wore a soft button-up of muted mustard silk. Leather hugged his legs and an even nicer pair of boots finished off the look.

 

“You do too,” Chanyeol managed, dredging his eyes back up to Baekhyun’s face. The man wore a pleased smile as he held out a hand.

 

“Thank you. Shall we?”

 

“Let’s.”

 

Baekhyun paid for their drinks and soon they were tucked into a cozy corner booth. It turned out that Baekhyun had just moved to town, but he was from the area and knew his way around. Chanyeol was shy at first, but as he grew familiar with the expressions that flit across Baekhyun’s face, he became more confident and began asking questions of his own.

 

“So, what exactly happened at the club the other night?” He’d been dying to ask, because some things just didn’t add up. He lifted his mug, taking a hot creamy sip. It kept his mouth and hands busy, preventing a nervous fidget.

 

Baekhyun groaned and sat back, letting his head hit the wall. He smiled wryly and washed both hands over his face. “It wasn’t supposed to go like that. I’m really sorry about what happened. If it hadn’t been for me, none of that would have occurred.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Baekhyun winced, looking embarrassed. “Min was supposed to be my wingman. But he got carried away.”

 

“Wingman...as in helping you pick someone up?”

 

“Someone—or you.” Baekhyun met his eyes, and spoke without reserve. “I noticed you the moment you walked into the club.” 

 

Chanyeol shivered. He wasn’t sure if it was in a good or bad way. Baekhyun was so forward, what was he supposed to think?

 

“You didn’t seem like you were having a good night, or maybe you were just quiet,” Baekhyun continued. “I didn’t know, either way, but I didn’t want to interrupt you when you were with your friends. When Min saw you get on the dance floor, he suggested approaching you to feel you out.” He paused and grimaced, raking a hand up into his hair, “I tried to stop him, but he insisted, so I let him go. But he was too drunk already, I should have known better than to let him go.”

 

It was a lot to absorb. Chanyeol was silent as he tried to process what he’d heard.

 

“I hope I haven’t completely creeped you out,” Baekhyun said, a little quieter, reserved. “I just...I couldn’t help but notice you.”

 

Under Baekhyun’s sincere gaze, Chanyeol felt a blush creeping up his ears. He dropped his gaze, long lashes hiding his fluster as he collected himself.

 

“No—I. I’m...flattered.” Baekhyun’s posture eased with visible relief. “I was just tired and didn’t feel up to a wild night. Thank you for stopping your friend.”

 

Baekhyun nodded. “I’m really sorry, again. He’s a messy drunk. If we end up hanging out more, I’ll make sure to drag his ass out to apologize to you.”

 

Chanyeol latched onto a few words and missed all the rest. Baekhyun wanted to hang out more. His eyes rose, searching, blinking. Baekhyun was looking at him, straight in the eyes, in that unnerving way of his. 

 

Something fluttered in Chanyeol’s stomach and his fingers fidgeted on the table.

 

“You want to hang out more?” he asked, his voice nearly cracking like a lovestruck teen’s.

 

“If I’ve not been obvious enough—yes. I wanted to know more about you from the moment I first saw you.” Baekhyun took one of his hands between his own and gently traced Chanyeol’s fingers. Baekhyun’s hands were smooth and strong, but dry and slightly hard. Chanyeol wondered if it was from riding a motorbike in the cold. 

 

Baekhyun glanced up, as if to check if Chanyeol was okay with the touch. It was all Chanyeol could do to nod, bite his lip, and hold his breath. He’d never received such intense attention before. His heart took up tap dancing on the inside of his ribs, erratic and loud.

 

“Your hands are so soft,” Baekhyun quietly marveled, sending a warm little shiver up Chanyeol’s spine. “So beautiful.” He looked mesmerized as he studied them. “Like the rest of you,” he added, tentative, looking up to meet his eyes.

 

Chanyeol flushed instantly, then realized that his reaction confirmed whatever Baekhyun had figured out about him. His heart took off like a hummingbird, his fingers twitching in the man’s warm, firm grip.

 

Baekhyun smiled, and gave his hand a light squeeze.

  
  
  


Coffee led to dinner, which they had up the block in a cozy restaurant. The sun had gone down, and they shivered and laughed as they darted down the street for their last minute reservation.

 

Over dinner they discovered a shared love of food. In the dim buttery lamplight, they swapped and sampled flavors off of each other’s plates. There seemed no end of topics to speak of, music taste to interests to where they’d traveled or wished to. The urge to ask Baekhyun about his work life came up, but Chanyeol quashed it each time. It was a bad instinct, one he’d picked up from his family. As a fellow Korean, Baekhyun probably already got enough of that. Chanyeol hated being asked about his academic life, because it wasn’t who he was, and he didn’t like how it affected people’s perspective or expectations. They didn’t need to know he was at the top of his class or president of the student council. He did it because it was expected, because he had a knack for it and it would help him in the long run. Sure his parents were wealthy and well-connected, but he wanted to chart his own path, earn merits of his own.

 

Baekhyun never asked, and Chanyeol was relieved. As they stepped out into the brisk night, full of good food and warm with good cheer, Chanyeol felt at peace. Even if he never saw Baekhyun again, he’d had a great day, a great night. He didn’t feel conflicted or confused as he often did after a date, worrying whether he’d presented himself right, or worse, how he would have to act the next time. He’d just been himself, nothing more, nothing less.

 

“How are you getting home, Loey?” Baekhyun asked. They stood under an old-fashioned streetlight. The air was crisp with the kiss of frost and a whispered promise of snow. The black night glittered with sparkling holiday lights.

 

“I was just going to call a car. It’s pretty close for me.”

 

“Can I take you home?” Baekhyun asked, taking his hand.

 

_ Oh. _ Chanyeol choked on nothing all of a sudden and had to cough a few times to get his air flowing right.

 

“I meant to your home,” Baekhyun added, amusement rife in his eyes. “That is, if you’re up for a ride.”

 

The double entendre only got worse, and Chanyeol’s face grew redder. He cleared his throat a few times. “On your bike?”

 

“No, in a cab,” Baekhyun teased, lifting a brow. 

 

Chanyeol whined. “Let me live,” he groaned, stumbling back playfully and leaning against a lamp post. It was cold though, and he quickly straightened, crinkling his nose in distaste.

 

“You’re cute like this.” A grin rendered Baekhyun rakishly dashing. A fluttering flurry rose in Chanyeol’s chest.

 

“I’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before,” he admitted in all seriousness.

 

“I’ll teach you. I have an extra helmet. We’re both sober and I’ve ridden with passengers for years. I’m a safe rider, licensed, insured, all of that.”

 

Chanyeol bit his lower lip and sucked a breath through his teeth. He’d seen Baekhyun put his drunk friend in a cab instead of letting him get on his bike, so he trusted that he was responsible. Besides, they were sober because they had been so busy talking and eating that they'd barely drank.

 

“What do you say?” Baekhyun asked, holding out a leather-gloved hand.

 

Chanyeol inhaled a big breath. “Alright. I’m game.”

  
  
  


Everything went smoothly, at first.

 

Chanyeol gave him his address and they checked the directions first. It was barely a fifteen minute ride, which Baekhyun seemed pleased about. He explained a few signals Chanyeol could use to get his attention. How to lean and move—or not—when braking or turning. Then Baekhyun helped him pull on a helmet. It was bit snug and pinched his ears but Baekhyun reassured him it was better snug than loose. With the visor down, Chanyeol felt like his head was in a snow globe but he was glad for the protection, even more so considering the weather.

 

They went through a few more drills, and then it was time to get on. Mounting the bike brought out a shyness Chanyeol hadn’t expected to feel. He got on first and sat back, then Baekhyun slipped in in front of him. Pressed front to back, Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun’s slim muscled bulk, warm and solid against his chest. His arms slipped around Baekhyun’s waist, gloved hands gripping, heart racing, and they hadn’t even moved yet.

 

“Are you okay?” Baekhyun asked, his visor up as he looked back. Chanyeol nodded against his shoulder, with a half-muffled mumble of affirmation. He didn’t feel the cold at all, instead he felt a little too warm.

 

“I’m going to drive to the end of the parking lot and stop, so you can tell me if you’re okay with this.”

 

Chanyeol wondered just how scary the experience was that Baekhyun would take so much precaution, but when the bike roared beneath them and purred forward across the asphalt, his heart jumped into his throat. He clutched Baekhyun’s waist and forced his eyes to stay open.

 

“You okay back there?”

 

Oh. They’d made it to the other side. Chanyeol stole a hand back and tipped up his visor. “Yeah. I’m good.”

 

“Ready to roll? If at any time you’re scared, just use the signal and we’ll stop and get you a car home.”

 

In the end, it was Chanyeol who regretted how short the ride was. When they pulled up in front of the house, his heart sank.

 

Baekhyun turned off the bike and pulled off his helmet, shaking out his hair. He dismounted, then held the bike steady while Chanyeol got off on slightly shakier legs. He’d gripped so tightly that he’d given himself a slight cramp, but he had no regrets, except that it was over.

 

Fumbling with the chin strap, he felt warm hands swat his away and undo it for him. Baekhyun pulled the helmet off and tucked it back inside the seat compartment. With his own helmet tucked under his arm, he walked Chanyeol the few steps up to the front door. The house lights were off, but the night was bright.

 

“I had such a nice time today, Loey. Thank you.”

 

“I—I did too. Thank you for coffee, and dinner, and the ride home. I really liked it.”  _ I really like you.  _ Chanyeol's voice grew softer as he spoke, shyness returning with a vengeance. What was it about Baekhyun that brought this side out? He stared at the ground, inspecting the doormat. What a nice festive design. The landlord must have put a holiday mat on the stoop when he wasn’t looking.

 

A touch at his arm brought him back and he lifted his eyes, biting his lip behind the high neck of his sweater. Baekhyun took a step closer, and their breath misted between them in the cool air. Chanyeol’s eyes dropped to Baekhyun’s smooth lips, his peaked Cupid’s bow.

 

“Loey—“ Baekhyun paused. “Can I kiss you?”

 

Chanyeol’s eyes flashed up and he almost choked on nothing again. But he recovered quickly, because he knew with certainty that he wanted it. He wanted to know how Baekhyun kissed, how he tasted, how warm he was. He wanted to know everything he could about the man.

 

“Yes,” he breathed, and didn’t even have to pull his turtleneck down because Baekhyun reached up with his free hand and tugged on it gently, revealing his lips. His fingers were cool against his cheek. He tipped his head up and slid his hand around the back of Chanyeol’s neck, drawing him down.

 

The flurries in Chanyeol’s stomach turned to sizzling sparks when Baekhyun’s lips found his mouth. Baekhyun milked his lips, slow and savoring, chaste but openmouthed. Chanyeol parted his lips, sucking in a breath, feeling a little lightheaded and hot. Baekhyun’s hand slid down to his lower back, pressing in and pulling him close as he took the opening Chanyeol gave him and dipped the tip of his tongue in his mouth. As their tongues met, a soft moan escaped Chanyeol that had his ears aflame. His arms came to rest around Baekhyun’s shoulders and he leaned into his sturdy frame, following Baekhyun’s lead as his tongue danced and teased but never went deep.

 

When they finally parted, Baekhyun was flushed, color in his cheeks and his eyes a bit glazed. Chanyeol was certain he looked the same. Were those stars in his eyes or had it started snowing?

 

“That was nice,” Chanyeol murmured, tugging his lower lip between his teeth to contain a smile.

 

Baekhyun’s thumb came up to press on his lip, forcing him to release it. “Don’t do that,” he laughed breathily, “or I might have to kiss you again.”

 

Chanyeol grinned, tilting his head and looking up at him from under his lashes. “What if I wanted you to?”

 

It was Baekhyun’s turn to groan, but it petered off to a laugh. “Trust me, I want to as well.”

 

“Then why don’t we?” His nose touched Baekhyun’s cheek. He felt warm and giddy and confident though there was no booze in his veins. 

 

“You—“ Baekhyun murmured but cut himself off, capturing Chanyeol’s lips once again. This time he kissed harder, squeezing a seized lip between his own two, pressing into him, sliding his tongue deep into Chanyeol’s mouth. Each stroke and parry gave Chanyeol a taste and had him whining deep in his throat. If Chanyeol’s knees were weak before, they were jelly now. He stumbled and ended up pressed against the front door.

 

Baekhyun pulled back, but not far, swiping across his lower lip with the back of his hand. His eyes were lucent and dark all at once, and they gazed at him in a way that made Chanyeol’s blood burn and head south. “This—this is why,” he laughed airily. He reached up and cradled Chanyeol’s jaw in his palm, staring straight in his eyes. “I’d like to see you again, Loey.”

 

“I—I would like that,” Chanyeol exhaled, failing spectacularly to catch his breath.

 

“I’ll call you,” Baekhyun said, before leaning up and taking a succulent nip of his lower lip. When he stepped back, his eyes were dancing. “Have a good night, Loey,” he grinned, boot heels crunching on gravel as he took another step backwards, sending Chanyeol a wink before he pulled on his helmet.

  
  


*******

  
  


“Nnngghh, fuck.” Chanyeol groaned and rolled over in bed. Somehow he’d made it into the house and removed his makeup, gotten undressed and tucked into bed. But he couldn’t sleep for his life, not with the memory of Baekhyun’s warm lips on his, his sultry mouth, his dancing eyes.

 

Chanyeol tossed and fussed and kicked his blankets around. “Fuck fuck fuck,” he whined, turning over to squeak into his pillow. He felt so high on happiness that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

 

Well, he kind of knew. Were that he’d invited Baekhyun in, they could be rolling around together right now, burning off a bit of this high. Chanyeol was convinced Baekhyun was hot for him, but he’d also been the one to slow them down. If limiting them to two kisses on a first date counted as slow.

 

Chanyeol turned on his phone in the dark, wincing as the light stabbed his eyes. His notifications had long since been muted with the late hour, and as he swiped through them, his heart leapt seeing an unread from Baekhyun. He opened it quickly and saw it’d been sent just a few minutes ago.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Can’t stop thinking about you...I had such a good time.

 

Chanyeol squealed and pulled the phone close, reading the message over a few times, a dopey grin on his face. God, he’d been on one date and he already had it this bad. Then again, it didn’t seem like Baekhyun was faring much better.

 

Where was Kyungsoo to slap some sense into him when he needed it most?

 

Chanyeol wondered what Baekhyun’s limits were. If he would back off if Chanyeol messaged him back, confessed to the same. For most guys, the thrill of the chase made them hanker for mystery. Chanyeol thought of it as playing with one’s food. He wasn’t like that. If he liked something, he liked it full force. Besides, he was an open book. Baekhyun probably already knew he was infatuated, crushing hard at the least. What Baekhyun didn’t know, however, was what Chanyeol wanted.

 

Rolling his lower lip between his teeth, Chanyeol stretched out and sank into the mattress, considereing his options. Baekhyun seemed older. He’d hinted at getting a masters many years back. Chanyeol placed him around thirty, with a very young face. Older guys seemed to want only one of two things—a hot young fling to fuck, or a married relationship.

 

Chanyeol just wanted to wrap himself in Baekhyun’s energy, his power, his smile. At 21, he knew a bit about what he wanted in life, but he also had another degree to pursue, and the rest of his life was a big blank slate. The possibilities were many, and he didn’t want to limit himself. Auntie’s voice came back to him, urging him to settle down, and he shuddered under the covers.

 

No, a fling was just fine. He knew he wouldn’t find a life partner with the snap of his fingers. Especially not given his particular preferences and needs.

 

Pulling up Baekhyun’s message he typed one back in.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

sorry not sorry?^^

 

**Baekhyun Biker Bro is typing…**

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

You’re still up?

 

**From: Chanyeol**

No I’m texting in my sleep ;p

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Don’t stick your tongue out at me :d

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Says the guy who French kissed me on the first date!!

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

You’re okay with it though? Right?

If not I’m really sorry :(

Loey, please tell me if it was too much.

 

Chanyeol was so stunned at the man’s consideration that he didn’t reply at first. Then an idea struck him.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

No it’s fine!!^^ Actually I could’ve gone for a few more… ;*

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Really? I could have too...maybe a lot more :x

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Yes was I not obvious enough? ;p

You owe me now ;*

Find a way to get me the kisses you cheated me of I’m going to sleep now goodnight!!

 

Giggling at his own boldness, Chanyeol turned off his phone and shoved it under his pillow. A grin split his face as he rolled onto his back, and fell asleep dreaming of cold sweet wintry kisses.

  
  


*******

  
  


“So, about those IOU’s…” Baekhyun murmured as he pulled Chanyeol close. Christmas and New Years decor mingled in bright splashes of color and light. They were at an apartment loft in the city where Baekhyun’s friend was throwing a New Years Eve bash. The invitation had been waiting for Chanyeol when he’d woken up the morning after their date.

 

Chanyeol hadn’t no plans anyway since Kyungsoo was out of the country and Jongin was with his family. He had invitations to a couple of parties near school but obligations to none. Why not live a little and have a romantic night on the town to ring in the new year?

 

“What about them?” Chanyeol blinked, shuffling into the crook of Baekhyun’s arm when he was reeled in. He had an arm over the older man’s shoulder, a half empty champagne flute dangling between his ringed fingers.

 

“I should probably deliver them before next year, right?”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes were twinkling. Chanyeol hummed to himself. “In front of other people?”

 

“If you’re into that,” Baekhyun smiled, slow and mischievous. “If not, we can find someplace else.”

 

A little shiver coursed up Chanyeol’s spine, originating where Baekhyun’s palm pressed to his lower back. The idea of being Baekhyun’s marked territory, to be publicly claimed, made his head swim. Or maybe that was Baekhyun’s cologne. He was dressed completely different tonight, owing to the fact that he didn’t take his bike. Gone was the leather and instead he wore a fitted black and white button-down shirt and sleek denim. Chanyeol had spent a few hearty moments watching the interplay of muscle underneath the thin shirt, the way it pulled across his built chest when he moved, revealing pert pectorals underneath. Chanyeol was more of an ass than tits kind of boy, but Baekhyun was singlehandedly changing his mind. Not that he was any less blessed in the posterior department.

 

Chanyeol bowed his head, nose brushing Baekhyun’s hair, hiding a smile. His voice was soft in his ear. “I’m into it...here is fine.”

 

Baekhyun’s grip tightened at his waist. “A little exhibitionist are you?” He murmured back.

 

Chanyeol nodded into his neck, then chanced a kiss to the exposed flesh. He’d blame Baekhyun’s cologne, which was musky and warm. He could actually smell it, maybe because it hadn’t blown off in the wind. Or perhaps, Baekhyun had put in a little extra effort tonight.

 

“Yooo get a room B,” someone catcalled, bumping into them. The voice was familiar and Chanyeol’s shoulders drew up as he put space between himself and Baekhyun.

 

“Min!” Baekhyun clapped the back of the man’s neck none too gently, his voice going hard at the edges. “Just the person I was hoping to see. You owe Loey here an apology, buddy.”

 

Chanyeol’s head shot up and he stared at the two men.

 

“Oh,” Min looked a confused, only a hint of recognition in his eyes.

 

“Don’t tell me you forgot everything from the other night.” Baekhyun leaned in, his arm slipping around the back of Min’s neck in what was nearly a chokehold.

 

“Have we met?” Min blinked curiously at Chanyeol. It was all he could do not to roll his eyes. Drunk people were the actual worst.

 

“You. Shit wingman.” Baekhyun jabbed Min in the chest. “Them. Owed apology.” He pointed at Chanyeol.

 

“O-oh. Fuck.” A light went on behind Min’s eyes. “This… was your boy? The one you were too chicken to talk to.”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes rolled, though they softened considerably when he caught Chanyeol’s gaze. “Yes. The one you groped against their will, dumbass.”

 

Guilt poured over Min’s features and he suddenly looked like a cat left out in a rainstorm.

 

“Fuck, dude. I am so sorry,” Min offered sheepishly, looking up at Chanyeol. “ Everything he said is true. I am a shit wingman and a dumbass. But you’re here together now, so not all is lost right—OW!” 

 

Baekhyun clapped Min upside the head. “Fucker! That’s besides the point!”

 

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I am sorry, and I hope you can forgive me.” Min dipped Chanyeol a little bow. “Even if you don’t, B will end me if I fuck up again, so.”

 

Chanyeol cracked a hesitant smile and nodded. “Apology accepted.” It was more honest than saying ‘it’s okay’ when it wasn’t.

 

Min flashed him a grateful smile and edged out from under Baekhyun’s arm. “I’ll just leave you two to...whatever you were up to.”

 

“Bye Min,” Baekhyun grinned and shoved him, kicking him away halfheartedly with a boot to his butt.

 

“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends,” Baekhyun murmured, hard edges melting as he slipped an arm around Chanyeol’s back again. “Now where were we...oh right. Come with me?”

 

Led by the hand, Chanyeol followed Baekhyun through the partygoers and elaborate decorations. They came to a quieter end of the loft, where a few sofas and stuffed chairs were clustered. Sprawling back in an armchair, Baekhyun tugged Chanyeol’s fingers, reeling him in. Chanyeol downed the last of his champagne and set down his flute. He could either straddle him, sink to his knees before the chair, or curl up against him. Moving in for the third option, he settled against his chest, resting on one hip between Baekhyun’s spread legs. He was up for a little cuddling.

 

“Hi baby boy,” Baekhyun breathed. Chanyeol’s head found a broad shoulder and he let out a sigh. Long fingers wound their way into his hair, stroking and petting the long locks that fell in his eyes. They were nearly nose to nose, and Chanyeol felt safe and ensconced with Baekhyun’s arms around him. He all but purred at the touch, belatedly registering the nickname. It all felt so natural, so right. 

 

“You like that?” Baekhyun’s voice drifted over him.

 

Chanyeol nodded. “Yes. Please,” he whispered. The shoulder of his oversized black angora sweater slipped, revealing his collar bones and the single white ribbon he’d worn as a choker. He’d kept his makeup simple but stark, using only black winged eyeliner and a bit of an eyeshadow aptly named Snowflake. The silvery white sparkles touched the inner corners of his eyes and followed his lids, his cheeks dewy and freckled with beauty spots.

 

“You’re so soft like this baby.” Baekhyun’s lips brushed his brow, voice quiet. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

 

“Convincing you to kiss me?” Chanyeol tried, hopefully. His voice seemed to take a long time to get to his mouth. Now that he thought of it, he felt a bit woozy. It was like the bubbly had gone to his head far too fast, but left him sleepy instead of buzzed. He stretched his neck, rolling it free of a crick, and nuzzled into Baekhyun’s neck. God, he smelled so good. He could just fall asleep like this. Surrounded by noise and festivity and people, but he was in a bubble where everything was muted except Baekhyun’s voice and warm touch.

 

Was this… was it possible… that he was slipping into subspace? Just like this? He didn’t really play, but he’d dabbled once or twice. Knew enough to know the feeling when it stole over him, like a soft woolen blanket. He felt so good, so safe. He let his eyes close, burying his face in Baekhyun’s shoulder with a soft sound. 

 

“Loey, are you alright?” Baekhyun’s fingertips stroked Chanyeol’s cheek, slipping under his chin to tip his face up. Chanyeol blinked heavily and took a deeper breath.

 

“I feel really drowsy.” Chanyeol admitted. “But really good…”

 

“Do you want to go home? We don’t have to stay until midnight.”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, but then thought better of it when his head took a minute to catch up to the shake.

 

“I…” Chanyeol forced himself to take a much deeper breath and blinked his eyes open. “Yeah maybe…” He frowned. “Unless you want to stay?”

 

“I’d rather see you home safely. You seem...a little out of it,” Baekhyun tapered off, hesitation in his voice.

 

“You can call it what it is,” Chanyeol murmured, gazing up into his eyes. The hazy feeling gave him courage, either that or he really didn't care what Baekhyun thought of him. However he reacted would tell him what he needed to know. “Subspace.”

 

Baekhyun’s brows rose with surprise, followed by understanding, then concern. “You went under with just that, baby?” He stroked a hand through his hair. Chanyeol all but keened and pressed into the touch.

 

“Fuck,” Baekhyun breathed, wrapping his arms around him. “You’re so soft right now. No way I’m letting you go home alone.”

  
  
  


City lights flew by as the car bore them home. Chanyeol watched them lazily through the window, cozied up against Baekhyun’s side. He was sturdy and warm, and kept an arm looped around him the whole ride home. In his reassuring presence, Chanyeol drifted further into the sweet lull of comfort. 

 

When they reached Chanyeol’s house, it took a moment to get himself moving and separate himself from Baekhyun’s warmth. Stepping into the cold, he tugged his coat closer and huddled his ears in his shoulders.

 

Baekhyun walked him to the door, and they stood there for a moment, looking at one another in the warm stoop light.

 

“Happy New Year, Loey,” Baekhyun said. He reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. They’d missed midnight at some point while dozing off in the car. Chanyeol’s brain caught up with him and he realized with a start that Baekhyun was bidding him goodnight.

 

“You... you won’t stay?”

 

Baekhyun took a step closer, sliding his arms around Chanyeol’s waist. “Do you want me to, baby?”

 

Chanyeol nodded quickly, blinking wide eyes. There was no way he was going to leave the party early and go home to his lonesome self when he had a better option right here at arm’s length.

 

Baekhyun closed his eyes briefly and sighed. When he opened them again, he was smiling. “You’re so cute, how can I resist?”

 

“You shouldn’t,” Chanyeol beamed, sticking out his tongue. 

 

“I guess I should see that you’re settled in well,” Baekhyun relented, eyes dancing. As if the decision was that hard to make.

 

Getting his key in the lock, Chanyeol pushed the door open. Inside it was dark, and he felt Baekhyun’s hand at his back.

 

“Shoes off?”

 

“Mm,” Chanyeol nodded. Once they’d removed them, Chanyeol shuffled closer on socked feet, missing the warmth of Baekhyun’s scent, his body heat.

 

“Hi baby,” Baekhyun purred, letting him into his arms. “What is it?”

 

“You still owe me.” Chanyeol hid a smile in his neck.

 

Baekhyun turned his head and nuzzled Chanyeol’s ear. “You’re not letting this go, are you?”

 

“No,” Chanyeol scrunched his nose. “Unless you don’t want to…”

 

Hands pressed into his back and Baekhyun's voice dipped. “Oh, I want to.”

 

“Then why resist?” Chanyeol rubbed his cheek on his shoulder.

 

Baekhyun pulled back just enough that he could meet his eyes. Ambient light caught his gaze; he looked serious. “I’m worried of scaring you off if I come on too strong.”

 

“You won’t,” Chanyeol smiled, he was certain of that. “I like it.”

 

Baekhyun looked unconvinced, or undecided. Chanyeol leaned in, nuzzling at his cheek and pitching his voice at a murmur.

 

“Kiss me sweetly, then. Like you did the first time.”

 

So Baekhyun did, pressing him against the front door, cradling Chanyeol’s face in his palm like a porcelain doll. Soft little kisses licked into his mouth, lips touching and nipping, never insistent or rough. Chanyeol didn’t push, swallowing the honey of his kisses and giving back in kind. 

 

Baekhyun thrummed with an energy that Chanyeol could feel, could taste, like he was made of raw electricity and leather and light and without his self-control he could and would destroy him. A soft moan welled in Chanyeol’s throat and Baekhyun gripped his waist harder. His mouth dipped, hot against his neck, tongue snaking under the strip of ribbon, lips finding his pulse. Chanyeol melted under his touch and bit his lower lip hard to keep in the sounds, but a few still escaped. Teeth grazed his neck and Chanyeol’s skin tingled as Baekhyun lapped and sucked at one spot. A groan escaped his lips as pleasure dripped into his belly, a telltale tingle collecting at the base of his spine. 

 

God, he was getting aroused just from his kisses—how would he survive more than this?

 

“Baekhyun,” he half-whimpered, half-moaned. Baekhyun dotted kisses along his jaw before he came up, with a flush and a dizzying smile. His hands had crept under Chanyeol’s coat, and rested against his ribcage. His fingers rubbed through the sweater, the angora heavenly soft and teasing against his skin. He watched with hooded eyes as Baekhyun licked his lips like a cat who caught the canary, hair tousled, eyes dancing and bright.

 

Chanyeol fleetingly wondered if he’d look like that after eating him out—if he was into that, if he wanted to—and had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a wanton sound. Baekhyun pressed into him, chasing his bitten lip, leaving another dizzying kiss on his lips. 

 

When he finally stepped back, Chanyeol shot out a hand to catch him before he could move too far away. He shuffled into Baekhyun’s arms and draped his own around him, butting his jaw with his nose.

 

“You seem more awake now,” Baekhyun said, dropping a kiss on his neck, “less out of it, hm?” 

 

Chanyeol grinned to himself. “Couldn’t really drift off with you kissing me like that.”

 

“Fair enough,” Baekhyun chuckled. 

 

Chanyeol led him inside once he was done clinging—for now—flipping on lights and shedding his coat. He’d cleaned before leaving, sweeping all his books and junk into the study, on the off chance he brought home a guest. He congratulated himself for thinking ahead.

 

“Your place is nice… do you live alone?” Baekhyun slid his coat off his shoulders and set it on the arm of the couch.

 

“No,” Chanyeol called from the coat closet where he hung up his peacoat. “I live with my best friend. He’s out of town all month, though.”

 

“Sweet deal.” Baekhyun wandered around the room, checking out the DVD rack and Chanyeol’s guitars. “May I?” He asked, throwing a look over his shoulder. Chanyeol blinked and nodded, coming to join him on the couch. He drew his feet up underneath him as Baekhyun settled an acoustic across his lap.

 

As the first mellow chords strummed from his fingers, Chanyeol’s heart leapt into his throat, his breath stolen. The old 90’s song was one of his favorites, and he couldn’t help the swell of emotions that filled him.

 

Baekhyun began singing, hair falling in his eyes as he bent over the guitar, softly swaying to the rhythm, a foot keeping time.

 

_ When the night falls _

_ On metropolis _

_ Neon dissonance _

_ Warm lipstick _

 

_ When the moon shines _

_ On the playground _

_ I will find you _

_ In the tinsel town _

 

His voice was warm and buttery, pleasant and soulful. His chord transitions weren’t smooth and he hit the wrong string here or there, but he looked up with a smile as Chanyeol’s voice joined in.

 

_ Whatever you want _

_ I’ll give it to you, I will _

_ Whatever the cost _

_ I’ll get it for you _

_ I will— _

 

When the music stopped, Chanyeol was spellbound, caught in Baekhyun’s dark eyes. The lamplight cast a halo around his dark blonde hair and illuminated his smile.

 

The flood of emotion inside of him knew no way out, his throat felt tight, his eyes prickled in warning. He needed—he wanted.

 

“Kiss me,” he whispered, and didn’t have to ask twice.

 

Baekhyun surged over him like ahigh tide, pressing him into the cushions as he ravished his mouth. Free to be just as loud as he liked, Chanyeol’s throat yielded to muffled mewls and pants. Baekhyun’s tongue filled his mouth, his hands held his head in place, fingers raking back into his hair. Chanyeol’s legs parted, knees sliding around Baekhyun’s hips as he rolled his own up, pressing against him.

 

“Baby—“ Baekhyun gasped.

 

“Hm?” Chanyeol caught his lips before he could pull back, sucking him into another deep kiss. He pushed his fingers up into Baekhyun’s hair, feeling the man groan and push down on his hips. A thigh pressed between Chanyeol’s legs and he began rutting against it, squeezing the flesh between his own thighs. His arousal heightened, his cock filling in his too-tight pants.

 

“Baby, you’re so hot,” Baekhyun mouthed down his throat. He swiveled his thigh against Chanyeol’s crotch and had him arching up off the couch.

 

“Please,” Chanyeol keened, craving release. A warm hand, a warm mouth, anything would do. When Baekhyun’s hand snaked between them and covered his clothed cock, he whined deep and low. “Please. Please touch me, Baekhyun.”

 

“So needy, baby,” Baekhyun purred in his mouth, giving his cock a squeeze and pushing a squeak from his mouth. “Can I jerk you off?” Baekhyun’s fingers moved to his fly, and Chanyeol nodded with a squirm of anticipation.

 

“There’s lube—“ he said, catching his breath, and his brain.

 

“Tell me where.” Baekhyun sat up, hair disheveled, eyes dark as they trawled up his frame.

 

“My bedroom,” Chanyeol pushed himself up with some difficulty. Baekhyun stood, offering Chanyeol his hand. He hauled him upright, and pulled him to his chest.

 

“Lead the way.”

 

Down the dark hallway they went, bumping clumsily into each other. Baekhyun kept one hand on Chanyeol’s hip, whether steadying him or maintaining connection, he didn’t know, but quite liked. He flipped on the track lights in the bedroom, leaving them low, and pulled a bottle of lube from the drawer and a box tissues from the nightstand, tossing both on the bed.

 

Baekhyun caught him by the neck and reeled him in for a kiss. “I’m gonna finger you and jerk you off, baby. How does that sound?”

 

Chanyeol felt weak in the knees, the whispered suggestion going straight to his cock. “Good. Please—“

 

Baekhyun wasted no time laying him back on the bed, undoing his fly, and slipping him out. Chanyeol was heavy and dripping and dark. Baekhyun pushed his sweater up his stomach and tugged his pants down his thighs. Squeezing a dollop of lube in his palm, he worked it warm between his hands before sliding them down his cock in succession, one then the other then the other and so on. Chanyeol almost came on the spot, a loud cry bursting forth as he twisted and writhed.

 

“Baby, baby,” Baekhyun soothed. The endless pressure and flow of hands on his cock made him whimper. His hips bucked and he knew he was close. There was no way he could hold out. When a finger slipped past his balls and pushed lube inside him, he arched clear off the bed with a cry.

 

“Baek— Please—“ he begged. “Feels so good.” With both of Baekhyun’s hands moving, one digit deep in his heat, stroking his cock from inside, the other working his shaft, it was only a matter of minutes before Chanyeol came, cock jerking and dripping as each drop was wrung out. He whined, thighs trembling as his sensitivity heightened, and Baekhyun pulled out. As Chanyeol lay boneless, Baekhyun quickly grabbed tissues and cleaned them both off. He returned from the bathroom, drying his hands.

 

“How do you feel, baby?” Baekhyun leaned over him, dipping down to kiss him on the mouth.

 

“So good,” Chanyeol murmured, still coming down. Even opening his eyes seemed to take effort.

 

The bed dipped as Baekhyun stretched out beside him. He nuzzled his cheek and pressed his lips to his jaw. Chanyeol cracked an eye open and eyed the man at his side. Then he rolled over and snuggled into Baekhyun’s chest. There was still some champagne in him. Alcohol always made him clingy, and so did getting off. 

 

Baekhyun let out a pleased laugh. “You really  _ are _ a big baby.” His arms draped around him and his chin came to rest in Chanyeol’s hair, hands moving rhythmically over his back.

 

“Happy New Year, Loey.”

  
  


*******

  
  


“Kyungsoo, is that a turtleneck? You’re in the Bahamas.”

 

“It’s a wetsuit, you uncultured loaf. And stop changing the subject.”

 

Chanyeol rolled onto his back in mock affront, dropping the phone to his side. “I am not uncultured!”

 

“Drama queen.”

 

“I prefer just queen, thank you.” Chanyeol rolled back over and propped the phone against the pillow. The sky and water behind Kyungsoo was vibrant in shades of green and blue.

 

“You were saying you went into subspace at this party with this dude. Were you guys...I dunno. Doing stuff?”

 

“No,” Chanyeol set his chin on his folded hands. “We were just drinking champagne and then I sat in his lap basically and he cuddled me and stroked my hair, and then there it was. I was like a newborn kitten in his hands.”

 

Kyungsoo’s brows furrowed and a wave crashed behind him. “And then he took you home and you fucked.”

 

“I mean he got me off, and we cuddled, then he left.”

 

“Chanyeol, it almost sounds like you were roofied.”

 

Chanyeol sat straight up. “What? No!”

 

“It just sounds weird to me, you know? I know you think I’m being paranoid, but hear me out. The guy’s friend molests you, he smoothly uses that as a way to get your number, asks you out the next day, and a couple dates later you’re putty in his hands, taking him home, and letting him into your bed.”

 

“I was down to fuck him on the first date. But go off, I guess.” Chanyeol rolled his eyes and dropped his chin into his hand.

 

“Yeol. I just have a bad feeling. I’m not attacking you or your choices. I just can’t ignore them, you know? You’re an innocent baby sometimes, and I worry that someone will take advantage of you. I’m just looking out.”

 

Chanyeol sighed and pulled a loose thread on his duvet. “I know. I’ll be fine though. He’s super nice, Soo. Super super nice. A complete gentleman. Always sticks to his word. Checks in. Asks my consent.” Chanyeol worried his lower lip between his teeth, muffling his words. “He treats me the way that I want to be treated…”

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Kyungsoo sighed. The sea breeze ruffled his hair and he raked a hand through it. “For your sake, I hope he’s everything you said and doesn’t have a secret family or a mafia job. Did you find out what he does yet?”

 

“No...I mean I know he got a masters at some point and worked in HR. But I don’t wanna ask. Then I’ll have to talk about what I’m doing too and I really just don’t want to go there. I kind of like that he met me at the club and only knows me as Loey. I just want to leave it like that for now.”

 

“This sounds like the beginning of those unsolved mystery shows.”

 

“Fuck OFF!” Chanyeol whined, laughing. “He’s not a serial killer or a psycho, and now you’re creeping me out.”

 

“Good,” Kyungsoo mock-scolded, brows drawn with a frown. “Stay in bed and don’t talk to strangers until I get back.”

 

“You’re useless.” Chanyeol rolled himself into a blanket burrito and glared at his phone.

 

“You love me.”

 

“Fbbbpt.”

 

“What are you, 5?”

 

“So? Baby boys deserve rights too.” Chanyeol gave him a wink and a sideways V-sign.

 

“I’m hanging up!” Kyungsoo barked through his laughter. Chanyeol grinned, satisfied he’d made his friend laugh.

 

“Okay but did you hear back about your MBA application?” Kyungsoo asked, once he’d calmed down.

 

“Yes! I got a call-in for an admissions interview like the day after you left. It’s right at the start of semester. With the Director of Admissions.”

 

Kyungsoo whistled. “Sounds like they want you. Good luck. Let me know if you need any help.” A pina colada appeared in the frame and Kyungsoo took a sip. “Gotta go catch some more waves in my  _ wetsuit _ , but keep me posted about dude.”

 

“His name is Baekhyun.”

 

Kyungsoo snorted. “Don’t get fresh with me until you know his last name, too.”

  
  


*******

  
  


With winterim classes underway, and his admissions interview looming, Chanyeol got back into some semblance of routine. He went to morning classes, then hit the gym, and had lunch at the library where he did homework for the next day. He took pleasure in studying, in acing his classes—and it helped that he was studying Business, something he understood given his exposure to his parents’ business. While they didn’t require him to enter their business—though they hoped that he would—they were more comfortable around business than, say, the sciences, or education, or arts. No one knew where Yoora came from with her journalism degree and her news anchor job, but so long as they were successful, their parents didn’t mind what they did.

 

The best part of being a diligent student was that by mid-afternoon, Chanyeol was free. That meant plenty of time to spend in Baekhyun’s company. 

 

They fell into a comfortable routine. It had gotten too cold to take Baekhyun’s bike out, so they drove or called a car if they planned to drink. Sometimes they stayed in, playing music or video games, alternating takeout and makeouts. 

 

It felt like much more than just two weeks had passed since their first date.

 

Chanyeol was filling out a form online for his interview when Baekhyun texted that he was leaving the store and would be there in five. There were so many forms when it came to education that Chanyeol found it a bit over the top. He’d been pleasantly shocked when he’d been asked to fill one of the forms out online, instead of yet another thing he had to print out or mail. It was like the education system had finally discovered the internet—the trashfire that was Blackboard and all its hellspawn descendants didn’t count.

 

Chanyeol was staring at the final question when the doorbell rang.  _ Gender: M, F, Other, specify. _ While he yearned to choose Other, he hesitated. None of his official documents said anything other than Male. As for this form, he didn’t know how or where the information would be used. Until he had collected his degree and safely placed at a job, he wasn’t planning on asserting that side of himself. He wanted to be successful first, then open the doors for himself and others like him. It wasn’t everyone’s approach, and he’d met criticism before, but it was his choice. He didn’t want to be shut out of opportunity he would otherwise have. And he couldn’t screw up his chances while his parents still paid for everything in his life.

 

Clicking on  _ M _ , he submit it, and ran from the study to answer the door.

 

“Hey, baby boy,” Baekhyun breezed in with the chill, dropping a couple of shopping bags by the door. He stepped forward, taking Chanyeol in his arms instead. “Or, baby girl, should I say?” he murmured, looking him up and down, before pressing a cool, gentle kiss to his lips.

 

Chanyeol remembered the pink hair clip that held his hair up. The cold on Baekhyun’s clothes brushed against his bare legs, barely protected by a pair of small red shorts peeking out from under his white sweater. He’d lined his eyes after his shower, dusting a bit of highlighter on his cheeks and dabbed on some gloss. He had the weekend to catch up on homework, so he’d come straight home from the gym. Knowing Baekhyun was coming, he’d gotten halfway ready, but apparently forgotten from the waist down. Pants had been part of the plan at some point.

 

“Either. Both.” Chanyeol smiled, pleased, and turned to hang Baekhyun’s coat. He was stopped in his tracks when two hands snaked around his waist. Baekhyun pulled him to his chest, warm against his back.

 

“You look so pretty, Loey.” A kiss pressed to his nape like a snowflake, melting liquid and warm as soon as it touched. Another one followed, one vertebra down. “Like a flower.”

 

“L-Let me hang your coat,” Chanyeol protested weakly, a dusting of pleased pink warming his cheeks. He pushed his hips back to bump Baekhyun off. 

 

But Baekhyun held on. He took the coat from his hands and tossed it onto the couch.

 

“I have something for you. Close your eyes.”

 

Chanyeol did as told without hesitation, though he kept his ears open, curiosity piqued. Something rustled behind him, probably the bag that Baekhyun had set down. Maybe it was wine, or a tasty dessert. Cooking dinner together was their plan after all.

 

Baekhyun’s arms returned to his waist, body warm at his back. A pretty scent wafted under Chanyeol’s nose. A candle?

 

“You can open them now.”

 

What met his sight stole his words. Chanyeol swallowed as he took the pink blooms from Baekhyun’s hands. The bouquet was comprised of stargazer lilies, deep pink edged in white, and powder pink roses.

 

Chanyeol had never received flowers from anyone but his parents before. Girls didn't get guys like him flowers. Guys didn’t get guys like him flowers. But Baekhyun had brought Loey flowers.

 

“Baby, you’re quiet. Do you hate them? It’s okay if you do.” Baekhyun turned him around. Chanyeol was staring at the flowers, a fingertip tracing the edge of a delicate bloom.

 

“I saw them and thought of you,” Baekhyun said softly, reaching up to thumb his cheek. “Who knew you’d look like a rose yourself and outshine them.”

 

“They’re beautiful.” Chanyeol finally spoke around the lump in his throat. He took a deep breath, blinking rapidly as his eyes grew glassy and wet. “Thank you.”

 

“You’re welcome.” Baekhyun stepped closer and cupped his cheek. A tear slipped down Chanyeol’s cheek and he sniffled, biting his lip. 

 

“Loey, what’s wrong?” Baekhyun wrapped his arms around him and Chanyeol burrowed into his hold, burying his face in his shoulder

 

“Baby, you’re shaking like a leaf,” Baekhyun whispered. He drew him toward the couch and sat him down.

 

“It’s...so sweet. You’re so sweet. I’ve—I’ve never gotten flowers before,” Chanyeol sniffled, wiping under his eyes carefully with the back of his hand.

 

Baekhyun stroked his back, pulling him into his lap. “I don’t know why. You deserve them, and more.”

 

Chanyeol snuggled into him, resting against his chest. Gentle fingers found his hair and freed it from the clip. Slowly, Baekhyun carded through his dark locks. The sensation of fingertips grazing his scalp, massaging where his hair had been up, made a small sound issue from Chanyeol’s throat. Baekhyun’s lips brushed his forehead and Chanyeol melted into him, a soft purr rumbling in his throat.

 

“God, you’re so easy,” Baekhyun said fondly, settling himself back against the cushions. Chanyeol took the opportunity to get more comfortable across his lap, his head coming to rest on the arm of the couch. He blinked up at Baekhyun, lips softly parted, eyes trusting and vulnerable. Baekhyun cupped his face tenderly and bent over him, claiming his lips in a slow, soft kiss. Chanyeol slid his arms around Baekhyun’s neck, sighing into the kiss. Each one was soft as rose petals, a little caress, and it left his body feeling warm and tingly and languid.

 

“If I don’t stop now, we’re never going to make dinner,” Baekhyun spoke between kisses. Chanyeol only acknowledged his words with a whine, and chased Baekhyun’s lips. When Baekhyun pulled out of reach, he blinked his eyes open reluctantly, scrunching his nose with a disgruntled pout. Baekhyun’s combed through his hair with his fingers and smiled. “Come on, baby doll. Up you get.”

 

Italian food—well, food in general, especially if it was cooked by someone else—was an effective incentive to get Chanyeol up. He shuffled around the kitchen in his slippers, pulling out glasses to pour out some wine. Baekhyun had brought a beautiful dark Merlot with him, and Chanyeol wasted no time pouring two glasses out.

 

At the counter, Baekhyun was inspecting the ingredients, and rolling up his sleeves. Chanyeol moseyed up behind him and handed him a glass. Baekhyun turned his head, pressing a kiss to his neck. “Thanks, baby.” He touched his glass to Chanyeol’s and took a drink, not once breaking eye contact.

 

“You know what they say—“

 

“Seven years of bad sex if you don’t make eye contact,” Chanyeol finished, hooking his chin over Baekhyun’s shoulder with a grin. The wine was good and strong, mellow and sweet. Just like a certain someone Chanyeol knew.

 

“Good that you know,” Baekhyun smirked over his shoulder. “So the sex won’t be bad.”

 

Chanyeol yelped and stepped back, swatting Baekhyun in the arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

 

Baekhyun raised his brows and his shoulders. “Nothing~” he smiled, going back to chopping up veggies.

 

Chanyeol frowned and edged closer, bumping him with his hip. “Do you think you’re getting some tonight?” His voice posed a challenge, brows drawn in a pout. Then he leaned in, a slow smile spreading over his lips as they grazed Baekhyun’s neck, just below his ear, before whispering, “Because you’re right.”

 

“Oh?” Baekhyun cast him a razor sharp smile. He slid a hand around Chanyeol’s waist, sliding it lower until it rested on his ass. Then he gave the meaty bit there a hard pinch.

 

“Ah!” Chanyeol yelled, his hips jumping forward. He huffed and whined as Baekhyun laughed heartily at his expense.

 

“You’re so cute when you’re coy,” Baekhyun mused fondly, returning his attention to the cooking at hand. “Don’t distract me and cry when the food is bad later.”

  
  
  


But it wasn’t tears of misery that Chanyeol cried later, but tears of laughter. “I can’t believe,” he wheezed, “you really thought you cook things by putting them in a cold pan. It’s supposed to sizzle when you start! How have you stayed alive all this time on inedible food?”

 

Baekhyun snorted, and rubbed his foot along Chanyeol’s shin under the table. “You’re having a real good time with this, aren’t you?”

 

“I just—I’m so  _ glad _ .” Chanyeol wiped the corners of his eyes. “If you knew how to cook on top of everything else, I might really wonder if you’re real or not.”

 

“Oh?” Baekhyun arched a brow, sipping his wine. His foot worked its way higher, creeping along Chanyeol’s thigh.

 

“You’re just, too perfect, you know?” Chanyeol leaned back in his chair, thighs spreading slightly as Baekhyun’s foot teased him. “I’m glad you suck at something.”

 

“That’s not all I suck at,” Baekhyun said mildly, taking another sip of his wine.

 

Chanyeol wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I know,” he smiled.

 

“What else do you know, baby?” Baekhyun’s eyes were lidded as his foot crept ever closer to the junction of Chanyeol’s thighs.

 

“Umm. I know dessert is waiting?” Chanyeol grinned and bounded up from his chair to retrieve it.

 

Two could play this game.

  
  


***

  
  


“Ughh I’m so full,” Chanyeol moaned in pleasure, draping his arms overhead as he stretched out on the couch.

 

“What porno is this?” Baekhyun stared at him, beguiled.

 

Chanyeol looked up at him from under his lashes. “I might have room for more.” A smirk slowly spread across his lips.

 

Baekhyun swallowed visibly and licked his lips. “Yeah?” His hand drifted to Chanyeol’s stomach, fingertips stroking warm against his lower abdomen.

 

Chanyeol nodded, drawing his lower lip between his teeth before releasing it. His eyes trailed down Baekhyun’s chest to his hips, voice dropping to a whisper. “But...it’s going to be a tight fit.”

 

Baekhyun’s eyes darkened, fingers stilling on Chanyeol’s skin. He trailed a hand down his cheek and pressed his thumb to his lower lip, where the result of biting had left a red divot. Holding his gaze, he touched two fingertips to the seam of his mouth. When Chanyeol’s lips parted, he slipped both inside. Chanyeol’s breathing went erratic and he sucked on them instantly, eyes going soft and wide.

 

“I’m gonna fill you up so good,” Baekhyun said in a low purr, and Chanyeol whimpered with want. “Look at you, sucking like the baby boy you are. You’re so good, I don’t even have to tell you what to do.” Baekhyun’s lips ghosted over Chanyeol’s neck, his cheek, his ear. He pulled back but stayed close, staring into his eyes. “You love it, don’t you? Being filled and held down? My needy baby boy.”

 

Chanyeol could only whine and nod, voice muffled by the fingers in his mouth. The heady words went through him like fire in his veins, and he writhed, hips shifting as arousal stirred his loins.

 

“Let’s do this in your room, baby, so I can spread you out.” Baekhyun pressed on Chanyeol’s tongue so that he opened up. The loss of fingers left him empty, and Chanyeol couldn’t help a pout, but they were quickly replaced by Baekhyun’s mouth. The kiss was wet and messy, but tender and fond as he held him in his arms. Chanyeol melted underneath him, arms looping round his back as he relinquished all control.

 

Somehow Baekhyun got them upright and they stumbled to his room. Chanyeol’s butt hit the mattress and he quickly scrambled back to rest his head was on the pillow. His legs were bare save for his shorts and socks, and he shivered in the cooler bedroom air. 

 

“You’re so pretty baby,” Baekhyun purred, taking his time removing his belt as he watched him from the end of the bed. Casting it aside, he stalk forward over him. Chanyeol slung his arms around his shoulders, pulling him close with a whine. Muffled laughter pressed between them as Baekhyun stroked his cheek.

 

“I’m right here, baby doll,” he whispered, dotting kisses to his lips, his face. He came to rest between Chanyeol’s legs, a comforting weight. “There’s no rush.”

 

“I want to feel you,” Chanyeol murmured, finding his voice. If it sounded like he was pouting—well, he was. Baekhyun had maintained the boundaries between them, and ensured that he knew Chanyeol’s early on. They’d talked about sex, discussed limits and health, and Chanyeol had been ready to bed him ever since. 

 

Boundaries aside, Baekhyun had ensured that Chanyeol’s pleasure came first, which had only left him hungrier for the day he would see Baekhyun come apart. Chanyeol wrapped his arms around his back and pulled him closer. Nose to nose, Chanyeol felt cloistered, held tight.

 

Baekhyun kissed the corner of his mouth. “How do you want me, baby?”

 

“I want to touch.” Chanyeol looked up through his lashes, smoothing his hands down Baekhyun’s chest. “Clothes off.”

 

“Okay, baby,” Baekhyun chuckled, warm and rich and low. “Are you going to help?”

 

Chanyeol nodded quickly and Baekhyun sat back, pulling him up. Settling on his knees, Chanyeol slid his hands under Baekhyun’s shirt. Muscle fluttered beneath his fingers as he pushed the shirt up. Baekhyun pulled it over his head, leaving Chanyeol all of his slender, muscled upper body to marvel at and touch. He was slim but ripped, in a way that only an older guy who’d lost his puppy fat could be. Chanyeol dove for the tattoo that spanned his broad chest and shoulders. Constellations sprawled across Baekhyun’s skin like a mantle of the stars, and Chanyeol had been dying to kiss each one.

 

Baekhyun’s arms wound around his head as he licked and kissed the inked marks. His fingers pushing through Chanyeol’s hair, a soft sigh on his lips. When Chanyeol gently pushed him back on the bed and nosed at his navel, Baekhyun leaned back and lifted his hips, allowing Chanyeol to pull the pants from his legs.

 

With Baekhyun fully naked, Chanyeol couldn’t help himself. The sight that met his eyes had him hungry with want. 

 

“Fuck. You’re so hot.”

 

Baekhyun smirked, taking advantage of his pause. He sat up on his knees and crawled over Chanyeol. “It’s only fair that this should go as well.” Baekhyun tugged on Chanyeol’s sweater, reeling him in. Chanyeol fell into him, catching himself on Baekhyun’s shoulders. He shivered as warm hands coaxed the sweater up and off, and shifted closer to bask in Baekhyun’s warmth.

 

“My beautiful boy,” Baekhyun admired. “Look at you,” he said, running his hands along the muscles Chanyeol worked hard to maintain. Chanyeol whimpered as the praise and the touches all dripped south. Baekhyun squeezed his biceps and leaned in to kiss his pecs, pushing Chanyeol down as he teased one nipple erect. He lapped and sucked the flesh before leaving it to twinge in the cool air. 

 

Chanyeol whimpered with sensation, his shorts doing almost nothing to conceal him anymore. Baekhyun’s fingers caught in the elastic and he palmed him through the cloth, sliding his whole hand around his balls and cock. Chanyeol moaned and thrust up into the massaging touch. Fingers slipped inside his shorts and cupped him, giving him a squeeze, A pitiful mewl drowned in Chanyeol’s throat. With a careful tug, the fabric slipped down off his legs, leaving Chanyeol leaking, curved and flushed against his abs. 

 

“Baby…” Baekhyun breathed, sitting up to stare him down. His lidded gaze caressed him, drank him in from crown to crown. He took Chanyeol’s cock in hand and stroked him up between his palms. “You’re so big. So beautiful. Just for me, hmm?”

 

It was all Chanyeol could do to suck a breath and nod. 

 

Baekhyun sat back on his knees across Chanyeol’s thighs, taking his own cock in hand. With the corner of his lip caught between his teeth, his eyes were black and hooded, drinking in the sight beneath him. He stroked himself hard slowly, growing in his palm. Chanyeol’s mouth grew dry just watching. Baekhyun was trim and solid, slight but razor sharp. He was cut across the shoulders and built across the chest. His waist was finely tapered and flared out to firm hips. The muscles of his stomach cut clean lines along his pelvis, right down to the root, where his thick, straight shaft stood erect between his legs, the dark head disappearing with each upstroke of his hand.

 

Chanyeol whined as he watched him, throbbing from the inside with an acute need to be filled.

 

“Baekhyun,” he panted, lightly cupping his own cock. He twitched with need, but swallowed down the urge to touch.

 

Arms haloed his head as Baekhyun leaned over him. Chanyeol all but whimpered when Baekhyun’s mouth claimed his. Their lower bodies melded, all heat and velvet skin, and a swivel of Baekhyun’s hips against him had Chanyeol clenching and clawing at his back.

 

“Please,” he gasped. “Please, I want.”

 

“ _ Fuck _ . Baby.” Baekhyun’s voice was raw and deep in his ear. He worked his hips in slow circles, slotting their cocks. “I wanna fuck you slow and hard. Fill you up so tight. Do you want that, baby?”

 

Chanyeol nodded quickly, gulping. “Please,” he begged. “Please, Baekhyun.”

 

“Face down or up?” His hips kept working slowly, and Chanyeol couldn’t help but watch. Lips wet and parted, dark hair falling in his eyes, his arms looped loosely around Baekhyun’s neck.

 

“Either,” he said softly. “I just want to feel your weight holding me down.”

 

Baekhyun held his jaw and tilted his face up, running a calloused thumb across his bottom lip. Two fingers pressed into his mouth, even as the words he spoke were soft.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm and safe.”

 

As Chanyeol sucked his fingers, Baekhyun slipped between his legs. Chanyeol drew his knees in, then draped them over Baekhyun’s thighs. He helped Baekhyun roll on a condom, then watched as Baekhyun flicked open the lube, pouring some onto his own cock, and some down Chanyeol’s sac. Bottle set aside, Baekhyun caught the slick before it hit the sheets, working it around Chanyeol’s ready entrance. He’d touched himself in the shower earlier while thinking of Baekhyun, and took the first finger easily. When the second joined, he felt it, and clamped around his fingers. He writhed, a sense of fullness beginning to take hold. Baekhyun watched him, dark and fond.

 

“You weren’t kidding, baby. It’s going to be a tight fit. Do you want another finger? Or do you want me just like this?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, blinking up at him with dark and dewy eyes. Baekhyun held his gaze and nodded. When the fingers pulled out of him, he gave a frantic whimper around those still on his tongue. Baekhyun added a third digit, successfully filling his mouth.

 

“Baby, this’ll be easier if you’re on your stomach at first.” Lube coated fingers teased around his rim. “Let’s start like that, okay?”

 

Chanyeol nodded and drew his knees in, gingerly turning on his side. He was careful to keep hold of Baekhyun’s fingers in his mouth, and kept his head turned to the side as he stretched out on his stomach. Baekhyun’s free hand spread his thighs and then trailed back to his ass. He adjusted himself, and Chanyeol felt the brush of something blunt and warm and thick. His breathing became quicker and he sucked on Baekhyun’s fingers in earnest, pushing his ass back.

 

“You’re so pretty baby. Wish you could see yourself,” Baekhyun’s fingers dipped into him, playing with his rim. When the blunt heat of his cockhead breached him, a muffled high pitched whimper burst from Chanyeol's lungs. He whined and trembled, the girth much more than two fingers.

 

“Breathe, Loey. Breathe.” Baekhyun encouraged, a hand firm on his back. Over his shoulder, Chanyeol saw the strain in Baekhyun's thighs, holding himself back. Chanyeol nodded around his fingers and made himself relax. Chest sinking to the pillows, he hugged one to his chest, letting his eyes go hazy as he sucked on Baekhyun’s digits. When Baekhyun finally started moving, feeding him his length, Chanyeol groaned around his fingers. He sank so deep inside him that he felt him in his belly. Baekhyun blanketed his back, pressing him into the sheets, and Chanyeol had never in his life felt so complete.

 

Baekhyun fucked him slowly, pulsing strong and deep. Chanyeol’s eyes fell closed, lips slack and swollen round his fingers, hips twitching with each thrust.

 

“Baby, are you with me?” Baekhyun asked. His voice was hot against his ear, but laced with warm concern. Chanyeol purred contently, nodding, lax and pleased and full. Bleary eyes blinked open, looking back at Baekhyun. He smiled, feeling soft and loved, the expression more about his eyes than his preoccupied mouth.

 

“God, baby,” Baekhyun kissed his ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re so beautiful. You take me so well. So good.” His hips pressed tighter to his ass, free hand pushing his cheeks open. Chanyeol writhed and wriggled. His inner muscles fluttered, clamping on their own, and Baekhyun hissed behind him, letting out a groan.

 

“Fuck. Yes. Mmmh.” Each syllable was punctuated with a forceful thrust. They came hard but slow, a rhythmic slap and thrust. Baekhyun wrapped his hand under Chanyeol’s belly, holding him tightly as he fucked him in earnest. His mouth latched onto Chanyeol’s shoulder, biting, kissing, hot.

 

It was all too much, and yet Baekhyun’s pace remained languid. Chanyeol whimpered as Baekhyun’s cock struck a nerve deep inside him. His thighs began trembling, hips pushing back to take him deeper. Suddenly Baekhyun pulled back, still sheathed inside him, and straddled Chanyeol’s thighs instead, pushing his legs together. Squeezing them between his own, Baekhyun thrust again, and Chanyeol yelped, feeling fuller than ever.

 

“Oh. Yeah baby. You’re so tight. S-so good.” Baekhyun’s thighs slapped Chanyeol’s ass with every rough thrust, pushing him deeper into the mattress. His trapped cock wept, hips bucking into the sheets chasing friction, while at the same time pushing back to take more of Baekhyun’s cock. The coil of stimulation tightened in his loins, acute and open all at once as he was thoroughly filled up, Release hit him like a shockwave, and he cried out loud, thighs shaking as he came in waves. Baekhyun fucked him through it and he whined, a high pitched whimper as he became oversensitized. With both hands finally free, Baekhyun grabbed both of his shoulders and pulled him to his knees. With the added leverage, he pulled Chanyeol back onto his cock with powerful every thrust.

 

“Ah—ah—aa—” The moans spilled from him freely, guttural and low, as Baekhyun fucked him hard and slow. Chanyeol gripped the headboard, each thrust knocking it against the wall. “F-fuck,” he whimpered. The warmth and weight and softness were a distant memory as Baekhyun’s hips began to slap his ass in an erratic beat.

 

“Baby—baby I’m coming.” Baekhyun’s hands slipped to his hips and he gripped him hard and bruising, squeezing him against him as he pulsed and came inside him. He finally stilled with a soft moan after another few uneven thrusts.

 

Chanyeol dropped his arms and hugged the pillow as he panted, sinking to his chest. When Baekhyun stretched out on top of him, Chanyeol all but purred. Trapped against the mattress, Baekhyun’s warm weight felt so good.

 

“Fuck,” Baekhyun panted, nestling his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder. He stretched his arms out, draping them over Chanyeol’s. “You’re amazing.” 

 

Smiling softly, Chanyeol nuzzled into the pillow. He was sated and happy. He gave a little push of his hips and Baekhyun groaned, lifting his hips and stealing one hand back to carefully guide himself out. He slipped off the condom, rolling over to sit up and tie it off. “Let me clean you up?” He asked, smiling, and Chanyeol rolled onto his back, away from the mess that he’d made on the sheets. He scrunched his nose and nodded.

 

Baekhyun grinned, unfiltered and pleased. He scrambled off the bed and into the bathroom, returning with a hot, wet towel. Coaxing Chanyeol’s hips up, he pulled the soiled sheet off the bed, then crawled back over him, towel in his hand. Tender and careful, he wiped Chanyeol down, lip caught in his teeth as he worked. The bathroom light spilled warm and bright over his shoulders and hair, and he smiled to himself while he cleaned Chanyeol off.

 

When they were both clean and snug under the duvet, Chanyeol looked over at Baekhyun, who rested on his side, chin propped in his palm. He ran his fingertips over Chanyeol’s arm and shoulder, back and forth, a soothing rub.

 

“Will you stay the night?” Chanyeol asked through drowsy blinks. They hadn’t crossed that bridge yet, but he hoped he would say yes. 

 

Baekhyun’s fingers drifted to his cheek, eyes intent on his face. “Do you want me to?”

 

Chanyeol nodded. 

 

Baekhyun shifted closer, draping an arm over his shoulder. “Okay,” he smiled.

 

Chanyeol latched onto him like a clinging burr, half pulling Baekhyun on top of him and wrapping arms around his back. Burying his face in Baekhyun’s neck, he hummed contently. Baekhyun laughed into his hair, and kissed the top of his head.

  
  


*******

  
  


The aches woke up with Chanyeol, like a cock at dawn. Groaning, Chanyeol shifted to stretch his limbs out, only to remember he wasn’t alone. Memories of the night before crashed through him, heady and strong. Beside him on the pillow, a head of dark blonde stirred. Chanyeol held his breath, staring wide-eyed at Baekhyun.

 

He was soft in sleep, gentle, even pretty. Chanyeol reconciled that he was usually so distracted by Baekhyun’s dancing eyes that he hadn’t had a chance to notice just how delicate his features were. Baekhyun’s endless teasing usually had him blushing to his ears and scrambling for composure. In their short time together, he hadn’t had much opportunity to just gaze at him like this, unguarded.

 

They lay entangled, yet Chanyeol hadn’t lost sensation in any of his limbs. Baekhyun’s body overlapped his, breathing soft and slow. An arm and leg had remained sprawled over him, possessively, all night. As he lay in tranquil quiet, Chanyeol thought back on the night. From the dinner to the sex, Baekhyun had made him good—from praise to teasing pranks. He made him feel so safe, so beautiful and cared for, and went to every measure to make sure he knew pleasure. Wasn’t this what he had dreamed of—that and even more? The warm glow in his chest hadn’t been there before.

 

Two weeks, he thought. Two weeks were all he had, until his last semester swallowed him alive. Until he had to be Park Chanyeol most all of the time. And Baekhyun had a job, too, starting around that time.

 

Chanyeol sighed, resting his face against Baekhyun’s soft hair. This was just a casual fling, or so he’d told himself. The making out, the flirting, the whirlwind of romance. It wasn’t made to last. Besides, Baekhyun had mentioned no pressure or expectations more than once. 

 

Chanyeol thought nothing of it at the time. But...what if? What if this could be something? What if he could have this safety, this pleasure, this much fun, for more than just one month? 

 

Baekhyun had a good ten years on him, maybe even more. Chanyeol wondered what he’d think. What did he want at this stage in his life? Was Chanyeol just a winter romance to him, a pretty young thing to woo and fuck? Was he just a plaything to fill the time before his job?

 

“Mmm. Morning.” Baekhyun’s morning voice was gravelly and deep, face slightly puffy from sleep. A finger pressed between Chanyeol’s brows. “Why you frowning, baby?” he murmured, soft and low.

 

Chanyeol’s frown deepened further when he realized he was right. He quickly changed into a pout. “You’re cute when you sleep. It’s not fair.”

 

Baekhyun rubbed between his brows, wrinkling his nose. “You’re cute all the time, so you don’t get to talk. Stop frowning. You’ll get wrinkles.”

 

“Yes, mother,” Chanyeol rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. Baekhyun hummed and closed his eyes, snuggling back into him.

 

Chanyeol’s heart skipped a beat. He wanted more of this. More snuggly mornings, more sweetness. He wanted it all.

 

“Your heart is racing, baby,” Baekhyun murmured with eyes closed. His fingers swept back and forth over Chanyeol’s breastbone. “What’s on your mind?”

 

Caught, Chanyeol swallowed hard. “I was just thinking… about how your job starts in two weeks.”

 

Baekhyun groaned as if in pain. “Let’s not talk about it. It’ll come soon enough.”

 

Chanyeol chewed his lip in thought, not quite ready to give up. “Aren’t you looking forward to it?”

 

“I am. But I’m happy to be free for a while.” Baekhyun sighed, nuzzling into his shoulder. “I just want to be me, for right now.”

 

Chanyeol couldn’t deny him; he understood too well.

  
  
  


They lazed in bed until the sun was climbing in the sky. Only when Chanyeol’s stomach began to twist with emptiness did he finally stretch out long, freeing himself reluctantly from his companion’s warmth. Baekhyun pushed himself up, running a hand through messy hair.

 

“Gonna grab a quick shower, is that okay?”

 

“Mmm,” Chanyeol nodded, tugging the blankets to his chin. “There’s extra towels in the linen closet. Toothbrushes, too.”

 

“Perfect.” Baekhyun slipped out from under the covers. “I’ll be fast.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Chanyeol mused, rolling himself in the blankets.

 

Baekhyun grinned over his shoulder, disappearing through the door. When he emerged not long after, it was with a towel round his waist, hair dripping onto his chest. He scrubbed a smaller towel over the back of his hair. Chanyeol simply gaped.

 

“Much better,” Baekhyun sighed, then caught the look on Chanyeol’s face. A slow devilish smirk spread across his face. He licked his lips, taking a step closer to the bed. “See something you like, baby?”

 

Was it too early to be this aroused? It hadn’t even been 12 hours since he’d been thoroughly fucked, and his body and brain were already derailing. Chanyeol huffed and rolled onto his opposite side. “No,” came his petulant, muffled response.

 

Baekhyun’s bright laugh made him burrow deeper into the blankets, but the sudden weight of a body on top of him made him yelp and peer out from his nest.

 

“Baby seems hungry…” Baekhyun all but purred, stalking over him on all fours. 

 

Chanyeol’s stomach chose that exact moment to let out a loud growl. While Baekhyun fell over on the bed laughing, Chanyeol sat up and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m going to wash up,” he pouted, scrunching his nose.

 

“Okay, I’ll be here.” Baekhyun dug out his phone from his discarded clothes and stretched out on the bed. Chanyeol’s gaze lingered, but he shook his head quickly and slipped into the bathroom.

 

Under the warm spray of the shower, Chanyeol returned to his thoughts. What would it be like waking up to Baekhyun everyday? Would it be this easy, this comfortable, companionable? What would he be like as a long term partner? Their personalities meshed, their interests overlapped, and their curiosity about each other was healthy and robust. And the sex… well, no one had ever scratched the itch quite like Baekhyun had. From the pet names to the affection and heat in his gaze, Baekhyun made him feel things he hadn’t even known for sure that he’d wanted before. He made him feel wanted and precious and small. He didn’t demean him or shame him, or cut him down. Chanyeol could be sweet and sexy, or tall and proud, and Baekhyun didn’t see him any differently.

 

Maybe it was time to tell Baekhyun about who he was. Maybe, if Baekhyun knew that he wasn’t this way all the time, that he had to live a different life the rest of the time, he’d understand. Maybe he could tell him his real name, and share more about his life. Maybe Baekhyun would want to know.

 

It was a big step to take with someone he’d thought of as a fling until now. His heart beat faster as he imagined how he would broach the topic.

 

_ So, um, you know my real name’s not Loey, right? _

 

Chanyeol shook his head.  _ Ugh _ . This would require some thought. It was enough of a challenge that Baekhyun was older, considerably so. Chanyeol wasn’t sure how he’d feel about dating a college senior. He was legal, and Baekhyun knew he was young, but could he take him seriously as a partner? 

 

Chanyeol’s stomach knotted with hunger, and he hurried his routine. That was it—they could go out for brunch, and he could bring it up then. At home he was too comfortable, and would probably chicken out. Rinsing his hair and scrubbing himself down, he made up his mind. They’d eat, and he’d bring it up then. That way, he reasoned, if something went wrong, they’d part at a neutral place that he could never visit again if he chose.

 

But something told him it wouldn’t go wrong. Couldn’t go wrong. He felt like he knew Baekhyun, though it had only been a few weeks. They’d shared so much—and last night, he’d seen even more of him. His tenderness, his warmth. The soft smile on his face as he cleaned him off, unguarded and gentle, wholly consumed in the task of taking care of him.

 

Decided, Chanyeol hastened the rest of his shower and hygiene, and pulled on his favorite white fluffy bathrobe, the one that swallowed him whole. His heart pattered in his chest, and he shook out his damp hair so it hung in his eyes. He spread on his favorite rose lip balm and sized himself up in the mirror. Baekhyun would like this. He anticipated the effect he would have on the man.

 

When he stepped out of the bathroom, Baekhyun was sitting on the edge of his bed, fully dressed with his coat, phone in hand. He stood as Chanyeol emerged, as if he’d been waiting. 

 

“Baby. I have to go.”

 

“Oh.” Chanyeol blinked, trying not to frown. “I thought we could eat together.”

 

“I wish we could. The job called and they need me to get started sooner—something about the current person in the position leaving earlier than planned. I have to go in for onboarding so I can transition in time.”

 

Baekhyun didn’t look happy, but then again, he didn’t exactly look down. He just looked kind of distant. 

 

“Oh,” Chanyeol echoed, chewing the inside of his lip. He followed Baekhyun out into the hall, and leaned against the wall watching as Baekhyun hastily pulled on his shoes.

 

He straightened and squared his shoulders once he was ready, letting out a breath. His gaze flashed to Chanyeol, who hadn’t budged from the wall.

 

“You’re quiet, baby.” He frowned. “Are you mad?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head. Baekhyun had a good reason. It was he who had no good reason to be mad.

 

Baekhyun stepped closer, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. Call you later.”

 

With that he saw himself out and climbed into his car, speeding off without another look back.

  
  
  


The house felt empty. 

 

Chanyeol burrowed into a corner of the couch, a mug of tea slowly cooling on the table beside him. His hair was cold on his nape, the analog clock ticking loud on the wall. He could have been at brunch right now, cozied up against Baekhyun’s side. Telling him the things he’d felt a need to hide until now.

 

Chanyeol sighed, pulling the throw tighter around himself. Any moment now, Baekhyun would message him, just as he had for weeks, with some sweet morning greeting or flirtatious text.

 

Or maybe he’d been fooling himself, thinking this could be any more than a fling. They were years apart, their lives only intersected so much. Baekhyun might not be interested in pursuing a relationship, especially not with a college student. And if he did, it would be for the sex.

 

Which, Chanyeol thought grimly, he’d already gotten.

 

Was it a coincidence that Baekhyun had split, lacking the affection he’d showered him with until then?

 

_ Men will say and do anything to get in your pants.  _

 

Kyungsoo’s voice echoed in his head, and made far too much sense.

 

The phone buzzed against his leg and Chanyeol quickly extracted one hand to pull it from the pocket of his robe. Heart pounding, he opened the lock screen.

 

**From: Nuna**

Hey munchkin! I think I can come up next weekend. Want to go snowboarding? I’ll book it, my treat!

 

Chanyeol’s heart sank like a stone.

 

Flipping over to his message with Kyungsoo, he sent him a chat. 

 

**From: Chanyeol**

When are you coming back?

 

**From: Do Mama**

Missing me? I’ll be back next next week

 

**From: Chanyeol**

:p yeah

Ok see you soon

 

**From: Do Mama**

Everything ok? How’s biker bro?

 

**From: Chanyeol**

It’s fine

His job started

 

**From: Do Mama**

Already? Wasn’t it supposed to be a few weeks from now?

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Yeah

 

**From: Do Mama**

Did your fling get cut short :(

 

**From: Chanyeol**

I think so

 

**From: Do Mama**

:((( Yeol

I’ll be back soon

[cuddles.gif]

 

Chanyeol sighed and slipped down on the cushions to pillow his cheek on his arm. He was still tender and a bit sore from the night before. The sensation didn’t bring him pleasure, instead he felt a lump form in his throat.

 

He spent the day researching cottages and resorts in the mountains and booking himself and Yoora a winter weekend retreat. Every time his phone buzzed, he looked at it with fresh hope then berated himself. He knew he was texting with Yoora but still his heart leapt every time it went off. 

 

Each time the disappointment—in himself—grew worse.

 

Baekhyun didn’t call all day. 

 

Chanyeol had been warned, and he knew better. But it still hurt.

  
  


The next morning, Chanyeol woke to a flashing notification. He rolled over in bed and flicked it open.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

You still up, baby?

 

The message had been sent at 12:48am.

 

Chanyeol huffed and rolled back over. He’d been fast asleep by then. Besides, who messaged that late? Was he just some booty call to Baekhyun? What if he’d been up and said yes?

 

He quickly regretted that train of thought.

 

Feeling infinitely grumpy, Chanyeol dragged himself out of bed and spent the morning cleaning. The dishes and the kitchen were a mess from their date night, and the day before had flown by while Chanyeol sulked. Eventually he felt like he could send something polite, and not petty.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

I was asleep. How was work?

 

Unlike their past exchanges, the response took a while to return.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Busy. It’s a lot.

How’s your schedule looking this week?

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Same as before. I’m free afternoons and evenings

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Damn. That’s going to be tricky

How about Friday?

 

Chanyeol frowned. That was a whole week away. And Yoora was coming that day.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

I can’t Friday

My sister is visiting for the weekend

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Oh. Let’s try for Thursday?

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Sure. What are you thinking?

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Late dinner? I’ll bring takeout

 

Feeling marginally better, but miffed he had to wait, Chanyeol threw himself into the only thing he had to occupy himself. He applied himself in earnest to his winter classes, spent extra hours at the gym, and used his afternoons preparing for his admissions interview.

 

Chanyeol had a natural knack for business, and knew how to woo a room. He wasn’t Yoora, but he had his own methods. He looked up the director and found a profile on the college site, of an older lady with a kind face. She’d been working at the university since before Chanyeol was born. If this lady held the key to his acceptance or not, then he had to play his cards right.

 

If there was one thing that Chanyeol had learned in his own journey of self-image, it was that looks and presentation counted for a lot more than most people thought. He pored over his wardrobe for a whole afternoon, putting together an outfit and a look. A bit of old school boyish charm would do the trick, as would looking like he actually belonged in that place. A cream and yellow sweater with a fitted brown blazer would pair well with khaki slacks. They were a bit on the tight side, but there’d been a time when men dressed like they meant it, and she’d probably been around to see it. Besides, nothing said confidence like well-fitted clothes.

 

His hair had gotten too long, so he took himself to the barber and had them trim down the length and clean up the undergrowth. When he parted his hair to one side, his forelock still curved long over his forehead, but the rest was in place, and he no longer looked emo or unkempt.

 

By the time Thursday rolled around, he’d cleaned his house top to bottom, caught up on all his homework, and packed his bags for his sibling retreat. 

 

He spent a little extra time in the shower that afternoon, letting the heat seep into his bones. Thinking about his academic and professional life always came with a constant low grade buzz of anxiety. His parents told him worrying was the mark of a good student, but he wondered if they were right. He was less worried about his grades and more about making the right impression and not setting a toe out of line.

 

It took effort to sink back into his softer self, the side that felt right, the side that was Loey. He set out his makeup and considered himself in the mirror. He wanted something simple, but alluring. It would have to be all about the eyes. He dolled them up, winging the corners and adding mascara. The effect was sweet but sultry, and he smiled to himself. He covered his acne scars, and dabbed gloss on his lips. His hair was no longer a long fluffy mess, so he styled it the way it was cut. The angora sweater from New Years Eve came back out, and he cuddled into it. A pair of black joggers completed the look. 

 

As a finishing touch, he spritzed himself with his favorite warm rose and vanilla perfume. It put him in the mood, and he padded out to the living room and curled up on the sofa to wait.

 

If Baekhyun didn’t fall to his knees and apologize for his absence after seeing him like this, well, Chanyeol didn’t know what else he could do.

 

Hours ticked past, and Chanyeol intermittently dozed and pretended to read a magazine. He pored over the same line over and over, and even when he got through a paragraph, he forgot what it said. Eventually he gave up and turned on his phone. He flicked over to the chat with Baekhyun and saw the last response was the one from days ago, when they’d scheduled this date. Maybe Chanyeol had been stingy. Maybe he’d deleted every message he’d typed out, every time he felt the urge, because he’d didn’t want to be that person who chased someone who didn’t want to be chased. Maybe it was time to swallow his pride and remind Baekhyun he wanted to see him.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Can’t wait to see you^^

 

No response came for a while. It was just a half an hour until the time they’d agreed to meet, which meant Baekhyun would’ve gone to pick up something to eat. Couldn’t he even text back now?

 

The minutes ticked by, and when it was five til, the phone finally buzzed.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Sorry baby…

I don’t think I can make it

 

Chanyeol threw down the phone onto the sofa, eyes instantly welling. He let out a loud sniffle, feeling stupid and foolish. Drawing his knees into his chest, he buried his face in them, swallowing back tears.

 

Why was he so bothered? Why was this guy different? Why did he care so much when he was just a fling?

 

The phone buzzed again, and Chanyeol gulped, hiccuping on his tears.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

They want me to go to a team dinner

I could come later… but it’ll be pretty late

 

Chanyeol wiped his tears carefully and typed a reply.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

How late?

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Around 10-ish

 

**From: Chanyeol**

I’ll be up

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Ok, I’ll let you know

 

Begrudgingly Chanyeol ate reheated pizza that he’d ordered the night before. He sat up on the counter, pulling slices from the pan, and downed a couple of beers. By 10 he was drowsy, and Baekhyun was nowhere in sight. When his phone finally went off, he stared at it with doubt and suspicion.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

On my way. I’ll be there in twenty, ok?

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Mmkay

 

Shuffling into the living room, Chanyeol unlocked the door and curled up on the couch. When the knock came, he didn’t move to rise.

 

“It’s open,” he called out, and curled in further on himself. 

 

The door cracked open, and Baekhyun stepped through, looking around. Spotting Chanyeol, he quickly pushed the door closed and toed off his shoes. Padding across the living room, he sat down on the sofa where Chanyeol lay on his side.

 

“Baby,” he breathed, fingertips cold on his cheek. Chanyeol shivered, looking up at him through sleepy blinks.

 

“Did you stay up just for me?”

 

Chanyeol’s heart cried at the soft tone of voice. He nodded and hated himself for it. Hated that he felt so neglected. Hated that he didn’t resist when Baekhyun leaned down to kiss him. Hated how Baekhyun’s warmth spread through him like wildfire in a drought, that he kissed him back hungrily, whimpering, pulling him close, trapping him with his arms and legs.

 

He hated when he let Baekhyun take him to bed, fuck him fast and soft, whispering _ ‘I missed you, baby’ _ as he made him come on his cock.

 

Hated when he cleaned him up, tucked him gently into bed, kissed his lips and told him that he couldn’t stay because he had work in the morning.

 

But he hated Baekhyun most of all, who had so swiftly and easily wormed his way into his bed and his heart, with sweet words, warm hands, and a bouquet of flowers to butter him up.

  
  


*******

  
  


“Munchkin!” Yoora sang as she sailed in the door, dropping her bags to wrap him up in a bear hug. 

 

“Nuna,” Chanyeol greeted, shuffling into her arms.

 

After giving him a squeeze, Yoora held him at arm’s length. “Yeollie?” She frowned, reaching up to touch his face. “Were you crying?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, quickly swiping at his eyes. He had, in fact, been crying, but it had been in the shower, so he didn’t think it would show. They weren’t tears of sadness, but of frustration and remorse. He’d let himself be used. He’d let all of this happen, swept up in a fairytale he’d made up in his head.

 

“It’s whatever,” he said, because that was the only way to describe it. It was neither here nor there. It was whatever. 

 

Yoora agreed, when he told her about it.

 

The weekend getaway turned out to be just what he needed. The bright sun and snowlit slopes slowly dulled the weight in his chest. After enough snowballs to the face, his laughter returned. He’d muted Baekhyun’s chat the morning after because he didn’t want to think about him. But eventually, the night before they drove back home, when he was warm on spiced whiskey, he deemed to take a look.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Morning, baby

You were so beautiful last night

I wish I could have stayed

Have fun with your sister

 

Chanyeol shook his head and closed the chat. The thought of him didn’t hurt as much after talking through what had happened with Yoora. She’d pointed out that Chanyeol had thought he was a fling, too, so it was only natural that the flame would dwindle out. Not going into it with any thought of commitment meant switching gears was going to take work on both of their parts. And if Baekhyun was occupied with his job now, maybe that gear wasn’t one he’d be switching on.

 

Chanyeol accepted her advice as gospel, and with it felt better with each day that passed. He left Baekhyun on mute so he wouldn’t drive himself crazy, and restricted himself to checking only once daily, if that. Some days there were messages. Some days there weren’t. He didn’t message out first, no matter how strong the urge. He wasn’t desperate, and he wasn’t going to let himself be used. Even a fling was more two-sided than this. But it seemed like he didn’t matter to Baekhyun anymore.

 

Kyungsoo returned, and with him came Nini. The energy of the new semester began to rev up. Chanyeol prepped for his interview, bought his new books, and got back in touch with the student council.

 

Life was back to normal with the return of routine and friends, and even though his heart twinged when he checked his phone at night sometimes, he was getting better at stomping down the voice that told him they could have had something.

  
  


*******

  
  


“Can these go?” Kyungsoo asked, a few days after returning. Chanyeol glanced up from his coffee. Kyungsoo was holding a very wilted vase of flowers, the lilies gone pale, the roses’ heads limpid.

 

“Oh.” Chanyeol swallowed hard, remembering Baekhyun’s sweet words and kind voice when he had cried on the spot. He’d been so enchanted that he’d swanned into his arms.

 

The water had gone murky, the flowers past their prime. It was apt, really. Flowers were a symbol of the temporary, not the permanent, after all. “Yeah, I guess. They look kind of done for.”

 

Kyungsoo’s gaze lingered on him before he pulled them from the vase to take them to the trash outside. Chanyeol hadn’t told him the details of what happened, because Kyungsoo understood well enough. He’d basically predicted it, after all. Fortunately he hadn’t rubbed it in Chanyeol’s face, and only offered cuddles as he’d promised.

 

Chanyeol hadn’t spoken to Baekhyun in a few days. Last he’d checked, Baekhyun had sent him a message about hoping work calmed down in a few months.

 

Chanyeol supposed he’d hear from him in a few months, then.

 

He stood to pour the dregs of his coffee down the drain when he saw a slip of folded paper on the floor. The tiny envelope smelled of old flowers and was slightly dingy and damp. Had it fallen from the bouquet? 

 

Chanyeol frowned, he didn’t remember a note with the flowers. But then again he’d bawled the moment he’d received them and they’d gotten distracted.

 

He opened the note out of curiosity. It was probably just one of those basic to/from cards and not even filled out.

 

But instead, neat handwriting scrawled over the paper, slightly blurred where the paper had gotten damp.

 

_ Loey~ _

_ How has it only been a few weeks since we met? This is going to sound crazy but you’re the most wonderful unexpected thing to come into my life in a long time. I feel like I don’t have to pretend around you. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. I hope we can spend many more together! _

_ xoxo _

_ Baekhyun _

 

“Yeol, what’s wrong?” Kyungsoo’s horrified voice broke his stupor.

 

Chanyeol gulped and swallowed, clutching the note. Tears wet his cheeks but he hadn’t even noticed.

 

“F-fuck. I think I made. A huge mistake. Soo—“ He came apart in Kyungsoo’s arms, sniffling and shaking.

 

Kyungsoo read the note, then set it down, guiding Chanyeol to sit down at the table. Chanyeol pulled out his phone, swiping to the chat with Baekhyun. There were 7 unread messages, spanning several days.

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Work sucks.

Wish I was with you

How are you? Haven’t heard from you in a while

Baby?

Are you mad at me?

Tell me if you want me to leave you alone

Okay I get it

 

Frantically, Chanyeol scrolled up through past messages. With the little note in hand, the same texts that sounded brief or careless took on all new meaning.

 

“What do I say?” He looked up stricken. “I-I thought he was over me, and then he became so distant. I left him on unread for days.”

 

“Let me see,” Kyungsoo frowned, taking his phone to scroll through. He sat back with a sigh.

 

“I mean, your best bet is to apologize. You kind of started to ghost him at the end there. And your messages are curt, starting from the day his job stuff happened.”

 

Chanyeol nodded quickly, bouncing the balls of his feet on the floor. “Okay. I’ll try. God I’m such an idiot, Soo. What the fuck,” he whined.

 

Kyungsoo stroked his hair and rested a hand on his nape. “You’re not an idiot, Yeol. You’re just a baby.”

 

As always, Kyungsoo was right.

  
  


*******

  
  


**From: Chanyeol**

I’m sorry Baekhyun

I got your note

The one in the flowers

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Bro**

Hah. It’s a bit much isn’t it

I got a little carried away

Sorry

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Oh. It’s okay^^

Can we talk? Or meet?

 

**From: Baekhyun Biker Babe**

When? I’m really busy...

Working 7 days. It’s going to get worse before it gets better

 

**From: Chanyeol**

Whenever you’re free?

It’s ok if it’s late^^

  
  
  


“Why isn’t he responding?” Chanyeol yelped. “Why is he leaving me on read?”

 

“I mean, touché, Yeol.” Kyungsoo said. It was the night before classes started, and Chanyeol was fully prepared. He had his interview the next day after that, everything was in place, and he was more than ready to blast through his final semester of undergrad.

 

Except Baekhyun hadn’t replied to him after he’d asked to meet and set a time.

 

“Yeah but!” Chanyeol huffed.

 

“But what?” Kyungsoo drawled. “The man said he’s been working seven days a week. You’re the one who ghosted him. Give him a minute to get back.”

 

“He probably hates me now,” Chanyeol reasoned, planting his forehead on the table. “Can’t he just get back and tell me I’m an ass and move on?” He let out a groan. “I hate waiting.”

 

“That’s because you’ve had too much time on your hands. With classes and crap starting you’re not going to think about this half as much.”

 

Chanyeol sighed and set his chin on his hands. “True. Tomorrow needs to come faster so I can fill my head with classwork.”

 

“Said no one but the biggest nerd ever.”

  
  
  


Chanyeol sailed through his first day back and almost didn’t let the lack of response from Baekhyun get to him.

 

Almost.

 

By the time he hit the sack that night, he was thoroughly exhausted, but something wasn’t right. Of course it never really was when he went through his day presenting as something he wasn’t. But the dull ache of it was stronger than ever this time.

 

He wondered as he lay ensconced in blankets in bed, if it would be totally inappropriate to send Baekhyun another message. Maybe something cute. He wanted to show Baekhyun that he’d forgiven him, but the irony was that he needed Baekhyun to forgive him, not the other way around.

 

Rolling onto his back, he flipped on his phone camera and held it aloft, angling for the cutest selfie he could manage to snap. When he had one he was satisfied with, he added it to the chat with a message.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

[image]

Miss you ><

 

Before he could regret his choices and stay up all night waiting for the message to move to Read, he closed the chat and pushed the phone away and did his best to sleep.

 

By morning, the message hadn’t been seen.

 

“You tried,” Chanyeol told himself in the mirror as he fixed himself up. Today was an important day, and he wasn’t going to let anything stand in his way. If he nailed his admissions interview at the graduate college, he would sail into another two years of school and walk out with an MBA, ready to join his parents’ business or get a lucrative job somewhere else.

 

He assessed himself in the floorlength mirror. The look was classically male presenting, and Chanyeol carried it well. Two more years of all the pretense, maybe one more to climb ranks. Then he’d have the foundation to start to be himself.

 

The admissions office was bustling. With the start of the new school year, there were international students in and out, distressed conversations in every corner, a flurry of printer paper spitting out schedules, and a general sense of chaos.

 

Chanyeol sat in the waiting area just outside the office, having arrived a few minutes early because he knew it was best practice.

 

“Mr. Park?” A voice called out. A young woman approached to greet him, shaking his hand with a smile.

 

“The director will see you now. Follow me, please.”

 

Back into the mayhem he went, but he was led down a hall to a small, quiet office. The nameplate on the outside matched the name he’d seen online. He took a deep breath and stood a bit taller. He was ready, he could do this. He strode in, with a pleasant smile on his face.

 

But the office was empty. Not just empty of a person, but empty of...anything.

 

“Have a seat, they’ll be right in!” The woman chimed, seeing herself out.

 

_ Whatever _ , Chanyeol thought, keeping his expression neutral. Sitting in the chair, he set his bag down beside him and took a look around. The walls were bare of personal items, not even a calendar had been hung up. There were no photos of dogs, or curious potted plants or crafts. Only the desk was a mess, covered in stacks of paper, folders, and a laptop.

 

This old lady really wasn’t gonna give him anything to work with, huh.

 

Sighing, Chanyeol did what he absolutely shouldn’t have.

 

Pulling out his phone, he flicked between his apps. Until something caught his eye. The photo and the message that he’d sent last night had been read.

 

And he’d been left on read.

 

Dejection sank his spirits. What could he do but wait? If he sent through a nice long message, would that get left on read as well? They hadn’t known each other long enough for him to be like that. If he was going to grovel or get deep, he preferred it be in person, not over the phone.

 

“Hello! Sorry for the wait. Chanyeol Park? Or do you prefer Park Chanyeol?”

 

Now he was hallucinating Baekhyun’s voice.  _ Wait. _

 

Chanyeol stood so fast he banged his shin on the desk.

 

Before him in a light blue suit and black turtleneck stood Baekhyun himself.

 

“Loey?” Baekhyun asked, features whipping from confusion to shock.

 

“Baekhyun…” Chanyeol’s mouth went dry. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. He had an interview to ace and a life to move ahead with. His lives weren’t supposed to intersect like this. 

 

“Please. Wait here.” Baekhyun said stiffly, and walked right back out.

 

“Fuck,” Chanyeol whispered to himself, trembling. He felt like he was going to be sick. “Fuck fuck  _ fuck!”  _

 

He’d ghosted the  _ Director of Admissions. _

 

He’d  _ fucked _ the Director of Admissions.

 

_ Oh no. No no no no no. _ Chanyeol dropped his head to the desk and tried to compose himself. This was fine. Everything was fine. He didn’t know, right? No one could say he’d slept his way into an admission, right? Or maybe! Baekhyun would just fail him. Say he wasn’t a good fit for the institution. Wouldn’t say why, but nobody would know better. If he appealed it, people would find out they’d fucked. 

 

Either way, they’d fucked, and he was fucked.

 

The door reopened. Chanyeol picked his head up, eyes flaring wide.

 

“Mr. Park?” A woman’s voice asked. “Are you alright?” Chanyeol swallowed and straightened his jacket, nodding uncertainly.  _ Get it together. _ “Director Byun had to handle an emergency, he asked me to interview you instead. I apologize for the sudden change. He just started and has quite a lot on his plate.” She held out a hand, introducing herself as she said something else, but all of it went straight over his head.

 

An emergency? Baekhyun refused to even see him. 

 

Boy, had Chanyeol fucked up.

 

The interview seemed to drag on forever, and yet flew by too fast. The woman asked questions, and Chanyeol gave answers. But his tongue felt thick in his mouth, and his answers sounded drab, echoing empty of heart. As he thanked the interviewer and walked out, he had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t be at continuing at Falls U after all.

  
  


***

  
  


“Yeollie...maybe you should slow down.” Jongin’s hand was soothing on Chanyeol’s back as he downed another shot. He wasn’t about getting plastered on the second day of the semester, but he absolutely believed he was in his right this time.

 

“Nini—“ Chanyeol slurred, leaning into his side. “Have you ever fucked a teacher? Or like, a principal?”

 

“No!” Jongin exclaimed, brows shooting to his hairline.

 

“What would you do if you did...never show your face again, right?”

 

“I mean I might die a little on the inside, and switch classes…”

 

“What if you found out Soo was your teacher?”

 

“Yeol...what’s this about?”

 

Chanyeol downed another shot, planting his head on Jongin’s shoulder.

 

“I fucked the Dean—I mean Director.”

 

Jongin yelped aloud. “You  _ WHAT _ ? Are you insane?”

 

“I didn’t know!” Chanyeol cried.

 

“Wait. Is  _ biker bro  _ the director—“

 

“The Director of MBA Admissions!” Chanyeol wailed. “I walked into my interview and he was—he was just  _ there _ ! He walked back out and made somebody else interview me, and I bombed it so hard. Nini, I’m so fucked I’m not gonna get into grad school I  _ ghosted him but he liked me I’m a dumbass I— _ ”

 

“Hush.” Jongin patted his head. “Neither of you knew before, right?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head. 

 

“So then it’s probably fine if you just don’t see each other again.”

 

“But,” Chanyeol hiccuped. “I  _ like _ him. I like him and I fucked up.”

 

“Shh. You can like many people in life. Unless you’re Kyungsoo, then you don't like anyone, but you’re not!”

 

Chanyeol laughed in spite of himself. “But...but nobody will be him,” he said sadly. “Nobody will be Baekhyun Biker Bro.”

  
  
  


Chanyeol held back on the benders after that first night, but his anxiety worsened with each day that passed. The acceptance notice was due to arrive anytime, and though he was prepared to never hear from Falls University again, he was almost certain he would hear  _ something _ . Perhaps a suspension for inappropriate conduct.

 

“It’s painfully obvious you’ve never actually gotten in trouble before,” Kyungsoo snorted, shaking his head.

 

“As if you have?” Chanyeol shot back testily. He was going through the snail mail, anxiously opening even the junk letters, just in case. 

 

“The fact is you met outside of school, before he had started the job, and neither of you knew each other’s occupation or anything. And you haven’t seen each other ever since you found. Unless Baekhyun is a complete asshat—which is possible, considering the company he keeps—he wouldn’t dare jeopardize your education through his own bias. He didn’t even interview you himself, that has to count for something.”

 

“But I treated him so badly…” Chanyeol shrank in his chair. The mail lay butchered on the kitchen table like a postal crime scene.

 

“I mean he treated you badly, too. He didn’t explain himself at all, and just became unreliable and distant.” Kyungsoo bent down and retrieved an envelope from under the table. “Missed one.”

 

Chanyeol picked it up and sliced it open with a huff. Wrestling the paper out, he didn’t process what he was reading at first.

 

“Wha—what did I just read?  _ Kyungsoo!  _ What did I just read???” He hopped out of his chair, shouting. “I got in!”

 

“What the fuck, congratulations!” Kyungsoo jumped up with him, giving him a squeeze. “Let me see!” He took the paper from Chanyeol’s hand.

 

“Signed, Baekhyun Byun, Director of MBA Admissions. Diversity Officer, Falls University Graduate School of Studies.”

 

Chanyeol’s heart pounded in his ears. “It doesn’t say that,” he scoffed, but snatched the paper back to check. Right there at the bottom, in deep blue ink and print, was Baekhyun’s name and title, and a signature flourish.

 

Chanyeol’s heart was in his throat and beating loudly. He clutched the paper in both hands.

 

“He—“ he barely got out, “he really did that, Soo.”

 

“Why wouldn’t he?” Kyungsoo said. “It’s not like knowing your favorite food or your favorite sex position have any bearing whatsoever on your merit as a student.”

 

Chanyeol hollered.

 

“I’m trying to forget that, would you please! Shut!”

 

Kyungsoo cackled madly.

 

“I want to message him, Soo. I want to thank h—“

 

“No.” Kyungsoo’s voice was firm. “That’s what you’re not going to do. You put yourself and him in danger if anyone ever finds out. He could be accused of taking favors, or coercion, and you both could be thrown out.”

 

Chanyeol’s excitement faded. Kyungsoo was right, but still it hurt to know that he had gotten ahead professionally at the expense of his personal life. 

 

It hurt, but didn’t surprise him.

  
  


*******

  
  


With school in full swing, Chanyeol’s heartache took a back seat. He had to juggle classes and homework, stay on top of student council matters, help select an incoming president, stay fit to have enough energy, and somehow remember to eat in the midst of it all.

 

Everyday on campus, he worried—and he wished—that he’d run into Baekhyun. Even just a glimpse. He made a few unnecessary detours past the Admissions office, and the one time he’d caught sight of him, Baekhyun quickly turned away.

 

Maybe it was for the best. With his schedule jam packed, Chanyeol barely had time to think, let alone pine over an unrequited crush. 

 

But no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t forget him.

  
  
  


“Hold hold hold—you got this!” Kyungsoo leaned over Chanyeol’s head, relieving him of the barbell and guiding it back into its cradle. Chanyeol went limp on the bench, panting with exertion. His limbs were jelly and he knew he was going to feel it for days.

 

“I’m a noodle, Soo. A soft noodle. How am I gonna walk?”

 

“You can lean on me,” Kyungsoo side eyed him disdainfully. “Well, if you wipe yourself down first.”

 

“Fine,” Chanyeol pouted, sitting up. The workout had been grueling, but pushing himself felt good. The sheen of sweat on his muscles spoke to how poorly he’d kept up, but he’d been preoccupied with mental heavy lifting in his studies, and most of the time it was well past dinner before he could even think about a trip to the gym. He ended up doing cardio and a few weight machines here and there, but his workouts had been brief and scattered, and nowhere as thorough as they’d been during winter break.

 

Rolling himself up to stand, Chanyeol mopped his brow and his arms with a towel. The gym was mostly empty at this hour, though he wondered if it was ever full, given that it was on campus and students were always busy. 

 

“Don’t look now, it’s asshat.”

 

“What?” Chanyeol turned around. Coming down the aisle between the benches was a familiar face. Followed by an even more familiar face behind him.

 

Min—codename asshat—spotted him from afar. As he sauntered nearer, he eyed him up and down. Behind him, Baekhyun was in a black sleeveless tank and shorts. He kept his eyes averted. 

 

Chanyeol could only stare, feet and mouth frozen.

 

“Looking good,” Min said with a cheerful wink. Chanyeol didn’t miss the way he eyed Baekhyun after he spoke, almost as if daring him to react. Baekhyun didn’t budge. He managed to look anywhere but at Chanyeol as they neared. 

 

Chanyeol wanted to say hi. To just look in his eyes. To find out how he was. He looked thinner, dimmer. Not like the warm blaze Chanyeol knew he was.

 

Kyungsoo caught his arm, holding him back as the two men passed by.

 

“Chanyeol,” he whispered. “Don’t.”

  
  


*******

  
  


The call came on a Friday before a long weekend. Knowing that he had no classes on Monday, Chanyeol headed home from campus at a decent time. He had no weekend plans, but the thought of sleeping in and lazing for a day was so amazing he could cry.

 

The first thing he did when he got home was change into pajamas. If he didn’t change or leave the house again until Tuesday that was fine with him. The breakneck pace of his final semester had him too stressed to experience the rumored senioritis that some enjoyed. He could have cut himself a break, but it just didn’t feel right. Though he’d gained entrance to his masters program of choice, it felt like he wasn’t finished, but was just beginning.

 

Flopping on his bed, he scrolled through his laptop and put on some music, a playlist of his favorite 90’s songs. Nothing took him out of school stress better than a good nostalgic cry. Not that he cried on purpose. It just happened sometimes.

 

As Mariah Carey crooned through the speakers, Chanyeol closed his eyes. 

 

_ I ain’t gonna cry no _

_ And I won’t beg you to stay _

_ If you’re determined to leave boy _

_ I will not stand in your way _

 

Okay so maybe he might cry. Just a little. Just because. Who didn’t cry when listening to Mariah Carey’s love songs?

 

Flopping over in bed, Chanyeol hugged a pillow to his chest. He knew he shouldn’t, but he wondered what Baekhyun would have done if he were there. Would he tease him for getting emotional, then kiss the tears away? Would he crawl into bed beside him, and spoon him while he slept?

 

_ You’ll always be a part of me _

_ I’m part of you indefinitely _

 

His throat tightened, eyes prickling. He knew he shouldn’t think about him, knew it would only make it harder to forget him and move on. He’d been doing so well, staying busy, staying strong. Then why did it feel like his heart had been broken into pieces and couldn’t be put back together again?

 

His phone rang, and for a moment, Chanyeol thought it was him. Baekhyun must have had a long weekend too, right? He sat up in bed and snatched up his phone, red-eyed.

 

“Hello?” He asked, heart in his throat.

 

“New phone, who dis?”

 

Chanyeol frowned, holding the phone away from his face. The voice was vaguely familiar, but the number was not. 

 

“Um. You called me?”

 

“Loey, right?”

 

Oh.  _ Oh _ .

 

“It’s Min,” the caller continued. “And before you hang up, there’s something you should know.”

 

Chanyeol set his jaw. “I’m listening.”

 

“Is that Mariah Carey? God, you’re both such saps.”

 

“Yes. Now could you please get to the point?”

 

“Righty-o. So. We’ve established I’m a shitty wingman the first time we met. But I’m not a shitty friend. And I’m really fucking tired of watching my friend destroy himself.”

 

Chanyeol’s muscles tensed, brows knitting with a frown. “What do you mean?”

 

“I saw the way you look at him. And I know how he felt about you. And I know you’re a student at the college where he works now and that there’s some sort of drama. But for the love of god, can you two sort it out? I’m tired of seeing him so miserable, and beating himself up over something that isn’t his fault.”

 

Baekhyun...was beating himself up over...

 

“What?” Chanyeol asked, confused. “Why is he doing that?”

 

“Didn’t you guys learn the most basic shit about each other? B’s kept his personal and professional life strictly separate for years. Obviously living an alternative lifestyle and climbing the ranks in academia don’t jive. They should, but they don’t. Until the old guard dies out or retires, that’s just how it’ll be. And you know how long they take to die these days.

 

“Anyway, I owed you one, so I thought I’d let you know. I’m dragging him out to the city to catch a deejay set tomorrow. He’s been working himself to death. I’m going to text you the address and info. If you give a shit about him, you’ll show up.”

 

_ Boy don’t you know you can’t escape me _

_ Ooh darling cause you’ll always be my baby _

  
  
  


“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Jongin whispered, bouncing with excitement on his toes.

 

“Shh, just keep it down. Soo will kill me if he finds out the real reason that we’re going. He thinks I just really want to see this deejay set.” They were crammed into his bathroom as Chanyeol put the finishing touches on his makeup. He’d done himself up much like New Years, but in addition to the Snowflake shadow, he’d added reds and pinks. The slight undercut allowed him to style his hair in a more edgy look, though it made his ears appear to stick out that much more. He pulled on a soft red and black flannel shirt, and slinked into a pair of tight black pants.

 

He had no idea what he was going to do, but he was going to look damn good doing it.

 

City lights twinkled like stars in the night sky. The drive from Falls was quick and painless, and the three of them piled out in front of the club. They hadn’t been to the city, or partied at all, since the night he’d met Baekhyun.

 

How time had flown.

 

“No line, that’s nice.” Kyungsoo noted. Chanyeol held his tongue, huddling into his fluffy white parka and scarf. The set was nothing special, the deejay an unknown. If Kyungsoo suspected something, Chanyeol planned to bullshit that the deejay was new and underground.

 

The club itself was tiny, fitting no more than hundred people, or that and half again. It was mostly empty when they walked in, having checked their coats at the door.

 

“Drinks?” Kyungsoo asked.

 

“Please,” Chanyeol agreed. He could use some liquid courage. Tossing his scarf over his shoulder, he quickly checked his phone to see if Min had sent him anything, a change of plans, an ETA. 

 

There were no new messages after Chanyeol confirmed he’d be there. And here he was as promised, with a best friend who was likely to murder Min if he happened past him.

 

Perhaps he owed it to the guy to give him a heads up that he hadn’t come alone. But not a whole heads up, he reasoned, drawing his lip between his teeth in thought. Maybe just a half.

 

**From: Chanyeol**

We’re here

 

Kyungsoo bought the first round, and they found a place to sit. The opening deejay was mixing 90’s and early 2000’s hits. The partygoers milled, drinking and conversing, not yet drunk enough for anyone to be dancing. It was an easygoing scene, but Chanyeol was fully wired, eyes peeled and surveilling for a certain black-eyed blonde.

 

With one drink in his system, Chanyeol braved a look around. He wandered from their table through the crowd, making the excuse of buying their next round. Jongin shared a furtive glance and gave him a small nod. He’d keep Kyungsoo busy while Chanyeol scoped the crowd.

 

The club had filled up nicely in the hour since they’d arrived. They were probably there for the headlining deejay. Chanyeol pulled his shoulders to his ears as he pressed his way throughout the throngs. Pushing his way into a small gap along the bar, he leaned on his forearms, trying to take up space so he could catch the barkeep. 

 

He didn’t miss the way a few eyes looked him up and down, some girls, a guy. But he wasn’t interested in their attention, no matter how much it might take off the edge. He knew more about himself now, what he wanted and needed in a partner. He didn’t want to perform anymore. He didn’t want to have to take care of someone or act bold and macho, just because that was expected from a big six foot tall guy. He wanted to be Loey, and everything the nickname had come to mean in just a few short weeks.

 

Keeping his eyes down, he ordered their drinks, and didn’t give them an inch. Holding two glasses in one hand, and one in the other, he began the treacherous journey back to their booth.

 

That’s when Chanyeol saw him. In the middle of the room, stage lights bounced off a head of blonde hair and strong leather-clad shoulders. Beside him was Min, staring straight at him. He bumped Baekhyun’s shoulder, making him turn.

 

Their eyes met in the dim light, and Chanyeol’s went wide. He took a step forward—and walked straight into someone. All three drinks toppled from his hands down his shirt, glass smashing to the floor with a resounding crash.

 

Ice cold gin and tonic seeped through his flannel shirt as someone called for help to clean up the broken glass. Chanyeol shook his hands off, standing still in place, both to ward others away, and to keep from getting glass shards stuck in the soles of the shoes.

 

But his eyes were far from still, roving the crowd for a face that was no longer there.

 

Was that it? Did he bolt? Was Baekhyun that determined to avoid him?

 

“Let me buy you another,” a smooth voice said behind his ear. Pitched low under the music, Chanyeol would have known that voice anywhere. He whirled around and stared.

 

“Baekhyun,” he whispered, feeling guilty, though he didn’t know why.

 

The older man looked at him, into him, like he had the first night. But this time there was sadness, regret in those dark eyes.

 

“What are you drinking?”

 

“G-gin and tonic. But they were for my friends.” His eyes drifted to the back table.

 

“How many friends?”

 

“T-two.”

 

Baekhyun flagged down a waitress. “Three gin and tonics for the table over there. Put it on the tab for Byun, card ending 6104.”

 

“How’ve you been?” Baekhyun asked, and Chanyeol could hear it. The way he bit off the endearment, the way he wouldn’t say it.

 

_ Baby... _

 

“Okay,” he whispered, swallowing hard. He twisted the hem of his shirt in his hands and looked down. It was soggy and uncomfortable and he smelled like a lush. What was he supposed to do now that it was soaked?

 

Baekhyun touched his hand, an ephemeral brush. “Hey, you’re soaked. Do you want to dry that off?”

 

Chanyeol looked up, but quickly regretted that decision. He averted his eyes and nodded instead. Baekhyun disappeared and Chanyeol breathed a sigh. But it wasn’t a sigh of relief, but of nerves that had just begun to fry.

 

With a handful of napkins, Baekhyun returned. He moved closer, and Chanyeol held his breath. For a moment it looked as if he was going to help.

 

But then Baekhyun stepped back and held out the napkins instead. “Here, this’ll help.”

 

Chanyeol kept his head down as he scrubbed and squeezed the shirt between the napkins. But it was no use. The shirt was still damp against his skin, and he shivered with a chill.

 

“Why don’t we try the hand dryer in the bathroom.” Chanyeol looked up and blinked.  _ ‘We’ _ , he’d said, right?

 

Wow he was really bare minimum these days.

 

Following Baekhyun mutely, they pushed into the cramped space and Baekhyun looked at him expectantly, one hand held out. Suddenly shy, Chanyeol held the hem of his shirt.

 

_ Get a grip _ , he scolded himself.  _ It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. You’re not even body shy, what is your problem? _

 

Taking a deep breath—which was a bad idea in a club bathroom—he unbuttoned the shirt and slid it down off his arms. Baekhyun took it from him, not sparing a glance at him as he held it under the dryer. Chanyeol covered himself with his scarf and stared at the floor. His ears burned, but with shame instead of pleasure. He was cold, and not just from the lack of a shirt. He took one shaky breath followed by another, trying to keep calm, trying to blink back the moisture that gathered in his eyes, threatening all the hard work he’d put into his makeup.

 

Baekhyun handed back the shirt and he quickly pulled it on, reveling in how toasty warm it felt, like it was fresh from the laundry. Not exactly, but it was close.

 

He followed Baekhyun out of the bathroom, but hung back when he headed for the floor. Chanyeol’s feet wouldn’t move. What was he doing? Just because Baekhyun had liked him months ago didn’t mean he was his lapdog, following him around. He’d stepped in to help, and he had helped. Chanyeol had no business following him around anymore. He stepped out of the way as people pushed past him for the bathroom. Pressing his back to a wall, he closed his eyes and hugged himself, rubbing his arms. His shirt was dry, but his eyes were wet. Once he composed himself he’d go back to his table, to Kyungsoo and Jongin, and drink away the night.

 

“Loey.”

 

Chanyeol opened his eyes. Baekhyun stood before him, brows knit with a frown. He wore black from head to toe, leather jacket, black turtleneck, and heavy rings on his fingers. But all Chanyeol saw was the Director of Admissions, and the rest of his life. Going down the drain if he didn’t play his cards right.

 

“Loey, are you okay?”

 

Chanyeol shook his head, but then he quickly nodded, blinking fast. If Baekhyun asked him why, what would he say?

 

Baekhyun stepped closer, making Chanyeol swallow with fear. Something flashed in Baekhyun’s eyes. 

 

“Loey, am I making you uncomfortable?”

 

Chanyeol didn’t know why the simple question had him bursting into tears. Weeks and months of longing had built and swirled and ebbed. But now the tide returned, ferocious, and he couldn’t contain it if he tried.

 

Why did he always end up crying in the club?

 

“God, Loey.” Baekhyun sounded aghast, at a loss. “I’m so sorry. Do you want me to leave?” He took a step back, as if giving him space. As if that’s what Chanyeol wanted.

 

“No!” Chanyeol’s voice suddenly found him, and his eyes flew open wide. He reached for him with both hands, and almost didn’t believe it when they met something solid that didn’t disappear. Baekhyun caught him by the waist, and Chanyeol wrapped himself around him, crumpling against his shoulder like it was where he belonged. “No please,” he whispered frantically. “Please don’t leave me again.”

 

“God,” Baekhyun’s voice was choked. His grip shifted, pulling Chanyeol closer. A hand stroked down his back.

 

“Baby…” he whispered, and Chanyeol wondered if he’d dreamt it, heart cowering in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much.”

 

_ Baby… _

 

One word was all it took. Chanyeol sobbed in earnest and clung with all he had. Halting words pushed through the tears. “I’m s-so sorry. I miss you too. Baekhyun. Please don’t avoid me.”

 

“Baby,” Baekhyun breathed, reaching up to stroke his hair. Shaking, Chanyeol crowded against him, hiding his face in his neck. “My pretty baby. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been so worried and so scared. For both of us. For you.”

 

Chanyeol shook his head quickly. “I’m okay. Are you…?”

 

“I told them that I’d met you somewhere, before I took the job. I had someone else interview you so that no one could say a word if they found out, couldn’t say it was bias or dig up other dirt.”

 

Chanyeol nodded. “That makes sense…” Of course it did. It’s what Kyungsoo had said.

 

Baekhyun ordered drinks for both of them and led him to a bench. Chanyeol followed, holding onto his hand. Sinking down together, Baekhyun pulled him close. Chanyeol had no words. He dropped his head to Baekhyun’s shoulder, and Baekhyun lifted a hand, petting his hair and the back of his neck.

 

When their drinks arrived, Chanyeol took his like a shot. He gulped it down quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. The booze burned all the way down, in ways that gin and tonic shouldn’t, but the warmth of it spread through him like a silver bullet.

 

“Baby!” Baekhyun laughed, bewildered, but the way he said it made him flush.

 

Chanyeol shook his head, setting the glass down. “I— thought I was done for. I,” he gave a sniffly laugh, “I really thought it was all over for me when you walked in the room.”

 

Baekhyun frowned, reaching up to stroke phantom hair behind his ears, as if it was still long enough to do that with. 

 

“Why should it be? I’d read your intake form. I had no clue it was you. I can guess why you filled it the way you did, why you go by different names and pronouns in your academic life.”

 

Chanyeol nodded, holding the glass in both hands in his lap, knees squeezed together as he rattled the ice in the cup. “That’s why I never brought it up.” He looked into Baekhyun’s eyes, voice falling soft between them. “I never meant to mislead you. I just... wanted to be me. And with you, I got to be.” He blinked wet lashes quickly, staving off a reprise. “It’s like what you said that one time.  _ I just want to be me, right now.  _ With you, I got to be myself for the very first time. I didn’t even know how badly I’d wanted to be seen for who I am until you did. I wanted more—and I got confused and scared. I’m sorry.”

 

Baekhyun hugged him around the shoulders, pressing a kiss to his ear. “All forgiven, baby. I didn’t talk about myself much for the same reason. It felt so good to stretch my legs in those few weeks between my jobs. I didn’t want it to end. I just didn’t think that my avoidance would have such dire consequences.”

 

Chanyeol cracked a smile. “Thank you for explaining,” he shifted closer, resting his head on his shoulder. “I thought you didn’t like me anymore.”

 

“Baby, no,” Baekhyun gasped. “I was crazy about you. Was I not obvious enough?”

 

Chanyeol flushed, hiding his face in his neck. “I thought… you just did that for the sex.”

 

Baekhyun grimaced. “I knew you would have hooked up the first night when we made out. If I’d just wanted you for sex, I would have taken what I wanted right then.”

 

“You knew?” Chanyeol squeaked. Baekhyun gave him a squeeze, and leaned over him, murmuring slowly in his ear.

 

“Between the two of us, one of us has self-control, and it isn’t you.” Baekhyun kissed his temple as he flustered, stroking fingers through his hair. “I was genuinely interested in you, baby. Was it so hard to believe?”

 

It was, and Chanyeol nodded, making Baekhyun sigh. He swept the backs of his fingers under Chanyeol’s eyes, wiping away the traces of his having cried.

 

“I’m sorry. The world is ugly, baby.” Baekhyun pulled back just enough to cup Chanyeol’s face in both palms, holding his gaze, soft and earnest and fond. “But you, Loey, Chanyeol Park, you’re beautiful in and out.”

* * *

uwu i hope you enjoyed this fluff TTuTT for Honest Skin bonuses and daily babyboy Chanyeol content, check my masterlist @loveyeol614 on Twitter! Honest Skin bonuses are filed under Contemporary :)

xo Soh


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